


We're all born naked (and the rest is drag)

by apfelhalm



Series: Born naked [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Drag Queens, Coming Out, Communication Failure, Dancing and Singing, Drag Queen!Harry, First Time, Getting Together, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Matchmaking, Self-Esteem Issues, Slow Burn, Trust Issues, drag queen!louis, occasional drag queen!zayn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-19
Updated: 2017-11-19
Packaged: 2019-02-04 11:43:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 27,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12770358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apfelhalm/pseuds/apfelhalm
Summary: Her tawny hair is chin-long and curly, pinned to the side to keep it out of her face, and she wears a turquoise lacey dress with long satin gloves. She's pretty, is what she is, and Liam ducks his head when he catches himself thinking that, feeling bashful and a little silly.Louis is a drag queen, Liam is totally straight, Harry might or might not be in love with Niall and Zayn is just done with everything. (Or: the drag queen AU that nobody asked for.)





	We're all born naked (and the rest is drag)

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by an answer Louis gave to a question in [this interview](https://youtu.be/p7A_S2FsgPE?t=2m5s) which I took and then completely ran with it. The anecdote about Millie is an actual story one of the queens told at RuPaul's Drag Race that I adapted for this fic. Whenever I imagined Louis singing "Maybe this time", he sounded a lot like Emma Stone in [this rendition](http://apfelhalm.tumblr.com/post/163529510084/tumbleroar-maybe-this-time-emma-stone) \- a little flawed and breathless but all the more real. (A full list of all the songs in order of mention can be found in the end notes, in case you're interested.)  
> A thousand thanks go to [Squishy](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Snowingiron/pseuds/squishy) for beta-reading, all remaining mistakes are mine. English is not my native language so please be kind.

 

"There you are." Zayn shoves a pint in front of Liam and slides into the seat next to him. "Niall got us free drinks. He said the show is going to start any minute."

"I still can't believe I let you talk me into this."

Liam looks around somewhat sceptically. The 1D is the kind of club Liam would usually walk by and never think of again, small on the inside, but classy and full of glitter and shiny chandeliers. The clientele is quite a mixed crowd: men and women on dates or out with their friends, some of them gay, some of them not, a bunch of women having a hen night and somewhere in the back Liam can even spot an elderly couple laughing with each other. It's nice, if he's being honest, but being home on his couch would be that much nicer.

"I couldn't just let you stay at home. Again. Probably moping over Danielle. Again,“ Zayn says as if he can read minds (and honestly, Liam wouldn't be surprised). „Li, it's been months, you need to get over it."

"I am!" Liam protests, which is to say, "... I'm trying."

It was an amicable break-up, all things considered: a couple of months of them having a great time until Danielle claimed his "heart wasn't in it" and that maybe he needed to figure out some things first before committing himself to a relationship. She gave him A Look when she said that and Liam still doesn't know what to do with it. They did agree to stay friends, so there's that.

He just really misses having her around, having _someone_ around; he doesn't do well living on his own. It must show on his face, because Zayn rests his chin on Liam's shoulder, patting his arm fondly.

"It's alright, mate. That's what we're here for."

Liam laughs a little. "To do what? Pull a drag queen?"

"Perhaps." Zayn smirks a little. "But mostly to have some fun. I haven't watched a show since I stopped working here."

Zayn looks a bit wistful at that, but before Liam can ask the club goes dark. A spotlight pans over the audience and back to the stage, a drum roll raising their anticipation of what is about to come next.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, queens and kings, we are glad you have found your way to the 1D tonight! Get ready for our first act: the lovely, the wonderful, the larger-than-life ... Harriette Mahogany!"

Everyone claps and a tall figure steps into the spotlight, even as the first tunes of a familiar song start blaring through the club.

"That's Harriette," Zayn says loudly into his ear, like the announcer didn't make that clear already, "she's amazing! I used to help out at her stage show from time to time."

Harriette wears a towering pink wig, platforms and a bell bottom jumpsuit made out of what looks like velvet with a floral pattern. It's an atrocity, but she somehow makes it work. Her makeup is equally bright and crazy, her mouth pink and heart-shaped.

Liam can't help the small grin on his face when she starts singing "It's raining men", all winks and bright grins and terrible dance moves full of innuendo. The audience goes wild and Liam finds himself cheering along. Harriette has a pretty deep voice, but she is a _fantastic_ singer.

She sings two more songs and then leaves the stage for the next act. It goes on like that, one drag queen after another taking the stage, some of them singing like Harriette, others doing comedy acts that leave the audience howling with laughter.

Sometime in-between acts, Zayn nudges his shoulder with a satisfied grin, mouthing "told you so" over his drink. Liam grins, because, really, this is fun. He would never have expected to enjoy himself that much and he's glad Zayn brought him here tonight.

"Another one?" asks Zayn, pointing at Liam's empty glass. Liam nods and watches Zayn disappear into the crowd. It has gotten a little quiet and the speaker's voice rings all the louder through the club when he announces the next act.

"Coming up next, with the air of an era long gone: Tommo Top Dollar!"

A jazzy tune starts playing and another drag queen enters the stage. Compared to all the dazzling performances and costumes earlier, she seems almost normal. Her tawny hair is chin-long and curly, pinned to the side to keep it out of her face, and she wears a turquoise lacey dress with long satin gloves. She's pretty, is what she is, and Liam ducks his head when he catches himself thinking that, feeling bashful and a little silly.

Tommo looks around the audience for a second, red lips curved into a Cheshire Cat smile, before she starts singing:

"Maybe this time, I'll be lucky.

Maybe this time, he'll stay ..."

Liam is pretty sure Tommo will never sing a big pop ballad without reaching the limits of her voice, but there's something inherently unique and charming about her raspy tunes that resonates with Liam more than any high note ever could.

"... Everybody loves a winner,

so nobody loves me,

Lady Peaceful, Lady Happy,

That's what I long to be ..."

Liam forgets about everyone else around him, feels like he's sitting in a dingy club back in the twenties, like Tommo really is that singer down on her luck she's pretending to be. It tugs at his heartstrings, it's _magical_ and Liam wishes she would sing forever.

"... It's got to happen, happen sometime!

Maybe this time, maybe this time, I'll win!"

She finishes with her arms raised up high, breathing hard, and Liam is on his feet before he even knows what he's doing, clapping wildly.

"Alright mate, sit down," someone mutters into his ear, tugging at his shirt. It's Zayn, back with another round of drinks and a slightly baffled look on his face.

Liam realises he's the only one standing, getting weird looks from the people around him, and blushes furiously. He flops down in an instant, feeling like an idiot, but Tommo's red lips seem to quirk into a surprised little smile. She winks, maybe at the audience, maybe at him, and Liam's heart doesn't stop racing even long after the next act enters the stage.

*

"Good show tonight, Tommo!" Harry says cheerfully.

"It's the same show every night," Louis says, pulling off his wig and trying to salvage his actual hairdo. It's unfair, really, how fluffy Harry's hair is even after wearing a wig as Harriette all night long, while Louis' hair is plastered to his head afterwards.

Harry flops down on the chair next to Louis, still half in drag and a suspicious grin on his face.

"What," says Louis flatly and places the wig onto its holder. He's tired and Harry's antics don't really help.

"Your admirer was here tonight. You know, the cute one."

"He's not my admirer. He's here for all of us."

Harry props up his feet on the dressing table, raising his eyebrows at Louis. "He gets this really dreamy look when you're on stage. Like really, really dreamy."

"So does Niall when you're on stage and you never do anything about it."

Harry giggles, undignified and a little nervous, muttering something like "don't be silly" and "he looks like that all the time". Which - no, he really doesn't. Niall is one of their cheeriest, loudest bartenders and couldn't be farther away from dreamy if he tried. But it's a moot point trying to explain that to Harry.

Louis rolls his eyes. "You're a lost cause."

The truth is: Louis has noticed the bloke in the back. He comes back every night and hides behind his drink like he's doing something forbidden, like he hopes he won't get caught. It was cute in the beginning, but now he isn't sure what to think of it.

Louis looks at himself in the mirror, face still heavily made-up, and wonders what it is the strange bloke keeps coming back to every night. Surely not him. _And who even cares?_ he thinks, pulling a face at himself in the mirror. He decides there's not much he can do with his hair without an actual shower, so he keeps it slicked back and pulls on a hoodie jacket.

"I'm knackered," he says, kissing Harry on top of his head and shouldering his bag, "I'm heading home for tonight."

"Bye, Tommo," Harry says lazily, cheeks still a little pink. One of these days, Louis really has got to do something about the Harry-Niall-situation. But today is not that day. Today, all he wants is his bed and a couple of smokes.

He lights one the moment he exits the backstage door, taking a deep drag and blowing the smoke out into the night. It's getting colder these days and Louis has to huddle up against the doorframe to avoid the stinging wind.

"... no, I'm not drunk, Dan- Well, maybe. A little. But that's not the point! The point is, I really think we should give it another try, because- hello? Hello?"

Someone groans quietly and seems to fumble with his mobile, before he takes a few more steps into the alley and looks up.

"Oh." It's the strange bloke ("your admirer," Louis hears Harry's voice inside his head) and he jerks to a halt in front of Louis, eyes wide.

"I- I'm sorry," he sputters, "I didn't mean to disturb you, I was just having a conversation and, uhm-" and starts flailing. He sounds awfully polite and not at all like a crazy stalker, which is what makes Louis smirk a little and nod at the stranger's mobile. "That your ex?"

The bloke nods, his eyes growing even wider.

"Boyfriends. Who needs 'em, right?"

"Uhm." It's hard to tell in the dim light of the street lamp, but he seems to blush. "You're Tommo, right? From the show?"

"That I am." Louis puffs himself up a little. "And what's your name, love?"

"Liam."

Louis takes another drag from his cigarette and gives Liam the once over: he wears a leather jacket that stretches nicely over his arms and his hair in a sort of quiff that makes Louis want to bury his hands in it. He's handsome, in a reliable sort of way, the kind of guy you would want to bring home to your parents. If your relationships lasted long enough to do that.

Liam watches him, blinking and vaguely hopeful, like he's waiting for something, and ... oh dear. Louis really doesn't do fans or admirers (not that there are many of them) and what if Liam turns out to be a crazy stalker, after all?

The struggle is real - for about half a minute, when he finally makes up his mind and figures: to hell with it. What can he say? It's been a while and it's not like people are lining up to be with be with him these days. Louis is only human and Liam really is very fit.

"Alright," he says aloud.

"Alright what?" Liam looks at him with a bewildered smile, eyes crinkling around the corners, and it looks bloody adorable.

"Do you drink coffee?"

"I. Uhm. Yes."

Louis takes a last drag before throwing his stub into the alley. "Follow me. My flat's only a five minute walk away."

"You're weird," Liam says with a laugh. And like an obedient, mildly confused puppy, he falls in step beside Louis.

*

Tommo lets the door fall shut behind them and turns around.

"Nevermind the mess. I didn't expect visitors or I would've cleaned up the place." He - is it "he" now? - seems to ponder this for a second, before he corrects himself: "actually, that's a lie. I never clean up."

Liam laughs. "Yeah, I can see that."

He kicks a trainer out of his way and physically fights the urge to pick up some of the stray clothes and empty pizza boxes. He doesn't know what he expected - dresses, wigs and feather boas, perhaps - but certainly not this. It's a small flat, no hallway, living room and kitchen rolled into one, and only two more doors, presumably leading to a bathroom and a bedroom.

"So, Tommo ...," Liam starts.

"Louis."

"Pardon?"

"It's Louis. Tommo is just my stage name. Although some people do like to call me by it."

"Yes, of course. Sorry ... Louis."

Louis walks over to the kitchenette and busies himself with the coffee machine while Liam just stands there, awkward and a little lost. After a while he tentatively walks over as well to lean against the kitchen counter and watches Louis bustling around.

"You've been to the club every night for the past week," Louis says.

Liam ducks his head a little. "You noticed."

"It's hard to overlook your first standing ovation."

"First?"

"Well, at least as a solo artist. In case you haven't noticed: I'm not exactly the most talented or striking queen."

"But you're amazing!" Liam blurts out in protest, then immediately shuts his mouth again, blushing. But Louis' eyes just crinkle with amusement and he lets out a delighted little laugh.

"So I've got a fan," he says with a sly grin, "is that why you keep coming back?"

Liam struggles for words. He knows _something_ keeps drawing him back to the 1D. Mostly Tommo's performance and how Liam can't stop thinking about it or how it makes his heart ache in the best way possible. It's hard to explain, even to himself, which is why he hasn't told Zayn or anyone else how he's been spending his nights lately.

When Liam doesn't answer, Louis leans against the counter right next to Liam, his body a warm presence that is hard to ignore. Louis' smirk grows a little softer, and he asks, his voice just a bit lower, rougher: "Is that why you came home with me?"

Liam really doesn't know. It was a bit of a shock, meeting Tommo ... Louis outside the club like that. Liam almost didn't recognise him without the dress and wig, but the makeup was still there and so were his bright blue eyes, his high cheekbones and the hint of mischief. And in that moment Liam thought ... why not? Why not talk to him? It might help him figure out what's going on or at least get it out of his system once and for all.

"... maybe," he says at last.

They settle into a silence that doesn't quite feel awkward but not entirely comfortable either. It's charged with something Liam can't quite grasp. There's a strange expression on Louis' face, scrutinising and expectant all at once, and Liam starts wishing the coffee were finally done with brewing.

(Maybe the question isn't: why did Liam come here? Maybe the real question is: why did Louis take him here in the first place?)

"What is going on with you and your ex?" Louis asks.

"Nothing," Liam says, which is mostly and sadly true. "We broke up some time ago, but I didn't- I thought ... I don't know. It was a stupid idea, anyway."

He hopes Dani won't be pissed at him in the morning.

"Good," says Louis, winking, "because I don't do relationship drama."

"Oh. Okay?"

Louis' hand brushes against his until it rests on top of Liam's fingers, warm to the touch.

Louis smiles. Liam smiles back, mildly confused. He might have been a bit tipsy before, but the effects of the alcohol have long faded after walking through the chilly night to Louis' flat. Now he feels dizzy in a different sort of way. His skin is buzzing in anticipation, like he's waiting for something ...

And then Louis leans over, brushing their lips together.

The kiss is gentle, no tongue, no teeth, just Louis' mouth and a tiny hum of satisfaction at the back of this throat. His lips are surprisingly soft, but it doesn't change the fact that Liam feels like he's been doused with hot and cold water at the same time.

(There's a tiny moment during which he leans in, almost going for more, but it's brief and drowned out by the shock. He will dwell on it later, though, replaying it over and over again in his head. Trying to make sense of it and failing.)

_Boyfriends. Who needs 'em, right?_

_Do you drink coffee?_

_Follow me._

Everything falls into place and Liam wants to hit himself for being so daft, for not getting it earlier. ( _There's your answer_.) He recoils like he got burned, eyes wide and heart racing. When he wipes his mouth, his fingers come away faintly red: lipstick stains. He almost laughs, because it's all just so ridiculous.

"What the hell?" Louis stares at him, frozen to the spot, the lipstick on his lower lip smudged. Liam can't even tell whether he is angry or hurt underneath all that makeup.

"Oh my god. Sorry. _Sorry._ This is- I'm not-" ... _gay,_ he wants to explain, but the word gets stuck in his throat. So he just shakes his head. "I'm sorry! I have to-"

He backs away several paces until he nearly trips over the trainer he kicked away earlier. Fumbling for the doorknob, he mutters another last "sorry" and then is out of the flat without ever looking back.

*

"Guess who asked to meet up tonight!"

"I'm sure you're going to tell me any second," Louis says, carelessly throwing the last of his things into his bag.

Harry doesn't look up from his mobile while he busily types some sort of reply, but there's an excited smile on his lips. "It's Zayn! He says he went to see one of our shows last week and now he wants to catch up with us."

Louis hums non-committally. Harry's mobile vibrates as another message comes in. "He's bringing a friend."

"Great," Louis says without much enthusiasm and that makes Harry finally look up.

"You've been grumpy all day. What's wrong?" Harry frowns, draping himself over Louis' shoulder.

Louis shakes him off and doesn't say anything. What's wrong, indeed. He'd like to ask Liam that himself, but for the first time in a week that idiot didn't show up at the club.

Louis is used to men running off on him, but this might have been a new record. Five minutes and Liam just turned into a stuttering mess and fled in a bout of - what exactly? Gay panic? It's so embarrassing he can't even tell anyone else about it.

"We should take Niall along," he suggests instead of an answer and it's exactly the right thing to divert Harry's attention. Harry's cheeks turn faintly pink and he gets this goofy little smile.

"You think he'd like to come?"

"Yes," Louis says firmly, "I definitely think so."

Which is how he finds himself sitting at a pub with Harry and Niall, whose shift luckily ended earlier today.

It's not a very fancy place, but the food is said to be good - Niall is starving as usual - and no one seems to mind that they look a bit weird. "They" meaning mostly Harry, who wears his long hair in a messy bun and a pink feather boa around his neck, because that's just Harry for you. Niall keeps throwing him adoring glances, which would be sweet on any other day but tonight Louis really can't stand looking at them.

He's glad to finally see Zayn walking up to their table and finds that he actually means it. Ever since Zayn stopped working at the 1D, they lost track of each other a bit. It's not that they stopped meeting, but their meetings have gotten a lot less frequent. Sometimes, he really misses Zayn.

"Hey there!"

They all get up to greet Zayn, when Louis notices the person trailing after him and his face falls.

"What's he doing here," he blurts before he can stop himself.

"You know each other?" Zayn asks just as Harry yells "Oh, it's him!" in excitement. Liam stands frozen to the spot, growing realisation and terror written all over his face.

"He's been at the club watching our shows. Bit of a fan, it seems to me. And cute as a button! Isn't he cute, Louis?" Harry babbles, nudging Louis in the side with a sly grin. The worst thing is that he's right: even looking like a deer in the headlights - or maybe because of it - Louis is acutely aware of how handsome Liam is and how plush his lower lip looks.

_I could have had that mouth on my dick_ , he thinks and hates everything, but Liam in particular.

Zayn looks surprised and a little puzzled. "You never told me that, Li."

"Uhm," Liam says, flushing deep red. His eyes dart from one side to the other, obviously looking for an escape route and finding none. Louis glares at him.

"Maybe we should go and get drinks?," Niall suggests, apparently sensing the awkward tension in the air. After a moment of thought he adds: "and food. Especially food."

"Good idea," Harry chirps up. "Zayn, Niall, you come with me. And you two-" he turns to wink at Louis, while insistently pushing Liam into a chair "-can get to know each other a little."

Louis wants to kill him. Slowly, painfully. More importantly, he wants to kill Liam first. The others shuffle away to the bar and the moment they are out of earshot, Louis leans over the table.

"What the hell, Liam," he hisses, "what the _hell."_

Liam visibly squirms in his chair, but leans forward as well. "I told you I was sorry! It's was a misund-"

Louis throws a napkin at Liam's face, which makes Liam recoil. "Sorry, my arse! I haven't been ditched like that since I was sixteen."

Olli from the local football team - really fit, but so deep in the closet he could hear the beavers from Narnia sing. He ran off completely overcome with hysteria, claiming that being with Louis would ruin his career. Not that he ever was _that_ talented, Louis could have told him from the start.

"But I'm not gay!" Liam says loudly, then stops dead in embarrassment. (He really does remind Louis of Olli in that moment.) He looks around nervously and repeats, this time more quietly: "I'm not gay. Dani is my ex. Ex _girlfriend."_

"Then what did you think we were going to do at my flat?"

Liam's blush grows even darker. "You offered me a cup of coffee."

Louis is baffled right into silence. He'd like to think that Liam is taking the piss, but his face is so open and so very sincere. Either Liam really was that oblivious or he is so much in denial that another Narnia joke might be in line. Maybe both.

"In what universe is inviting someone for coffee not an invitation for sex?" he asks incredulously.

"I thought that was 'Netflix and chill' now," Liam says, trying a tentative, placating smile, and it's all the worse because it looks so endearing. What a knob. Louis wants to strangle him. When he keeps glaring, Liam starts frowning again and bites his lower lip. "... do I come off as gay?"

Louis deflates a little. He'd like to say "yes", but Liam looks so worried and Louis may be many things but not cruel. Here's a bloke who clearly hasn't worked things out for himself and he should be given the chance to figure it out on his own terms. Not everyone grows up knowing exactly what they want or having a supportive family like Louis. And maybe he was wrong and Liam really is painfully straight. (He's not, though. Because Louis' gaydar is infallible and he is always right.)

"It's not a bad thing, you know. Being gay. Or even coming off as gay."

"I know. I didn't mean for it to sound like that. And I really am sorry about last night." Liam ducks his head. He looks like a lost puppy, rueful and pouting, and Louis tries, he really tries to muster up some more of that indignant rage. He can't. It's literally impossible with Liam looking at him like that.

"Just. Don't ever do that again. It's a shite move and you might break a heart one day," Louis sighs. "And be a bit more honest with yourself."

"Uh. I'll try?"

Liam blinks at him owlishly, that confused smile with the crinkly eyes back on his face and Louis really can't stay cross with him anymore. He quickly bends forward to pinch Liam's nipple and flops back into his chair with a triumphant grin.

The scandalised look on Liam's face is so hilarious that Louis almost does it again. He sticks his tongue out, his way of saying "we're good now", and Liam slowly seems to catch up, because he lets out a gentle laugh, then another, until they're both giggling at their own personal joke.

"Well, someone's getting along."

Harry sounds pleased when he, Niall and Zayn return with drinks (respectively one huge plate of fish 'n' chips for Niall), letting his gaze wander between Liam and Louis. He raises his eyebrows questioningly at Louis who simply shrugs.

"What can I say?," he smiles innocently, "it was love at first sight."

Liam almost chokes on his beer.

*

"You did drag?!" Liam looks from Zayn to the others in disbelief, trying to figure out if they're taking the piss.

"Of course he did!" Harry pipes up with a smirk, waving around his feather boa. "Harriette, Tommo and Zee. Our number was a banger. She could hit all the high notes and looked smashing, too. Right, Zee?"

Zayn did say he helped out with Harriette's numbers, but Liam assumed it was some assisstant job or ... well. He looks at Zayn, trying to imagine him with makeup and a wig and ... yeah, it's really not that hard. He'd make a pretty drag queen. Figures.

Zayn shrugs, grinning. "It was fun for a while, but I could make easier money somewhere else. It doesn't pay that well unless you're really famous, you know."

"So why do you two do it then?" Liam asks, genuinely curious, looking at Harry but especially Louis. He still feels a little self-conscious talking to him, but Louis seems to have brushed off the incident easily or is at least very good at hiding it.

"Who says we're not famous?" Louis says, sticking his tongue out, while Harry puts on a knowing smile and asks: "Why does anyone go on stage?"

Liam shrugs. "I wouldn't know. Stage fright."

"Being a drag queen isn't just a job that you do - it's art. That's the difference between Zayn and us. It gives you the chance to be someone else, to be larger than life or quiet and glamorous, to create an illusion and make people's lives brighter for a while," Louis says and, growing more serious, adds: "because there are always people like Millie."

"Who's Millie?" Liam asks, puzzled when everyone goes quiet.

Niall, the cheery bartender from the club, looks up from his drink. "Millie was one of our regulars. The first time she was at the 1D, she had a bunch of friends with her. They got pretty smashed, so I asked: 'what are you celebrating?'. And she said: 'number 4 on my bucket list'."

Liam swallows hard. "Oh."

"Yeah. Turns out they had told her she only had a couple of months left to live."

"Millie became one of our biggest and sweetest fans," Harry continues, his voice low. "She came every week for over a year - until she didn't anymore. We made some enquiries and found out she was in hospital."

"So Harriette and Tommo called together the rest of the girls to give Millie one last show at the hospital." Niall gives them a proud, albeit sad little smile. "You should've seen it. It was a gig to remember."

He doesn't provide the rest of the story. He doesn't need to. Everyone is staring at the table or into their drinks in thoughtful silence.

It's Louis who speaks up first: "People coming to see us want to be entertained. They want an escape from reality. So that's what I do. For people like Millie."

"To Millie, then," Liam says, surprising himself by raising his glass and smiling at Louis. Louis seems surprised as well, hesitating just a second until the corners of his lips jerk up. One by one, the others join in and clink their glasses - "To Millie!" - and Louis' smile sits warm and comfortable in Liam's chest.

The night goes on and only many hours and many drinks later, they decide to call it a day. Harry and Zayn share a cab and Niall is just tottering out of view when Liam catches Louis outside the pub.

"Hey," he calls softly, hurrying after Louis before he can head home as well. Louis stops and lights a cigarette, his features soft in the streetlight.

"I just wanted to say thank you. For being so cool about everything. I know this could have gone a lot different, but I had a good time with you and the lads tonight."

Louis nods, lightly bumping Liam's shoulder with his own. "It's okay. Honestly."

Liam smiles and goes on without really thinking about it. "Look, Zayn really likes you and it would be nice if we can be friends. Or at least be on good terms with each other," he adds, because he doesn't want to presume.

"Friends, eh?" Louis puffs out a cloud of smoke which makes it harder to see his face, but Liam is pretty sure he's giving him a funny look. "Sure. If that's what you want."

"Yes. I'd like that."

Once the initial shock and anger had faded, Louis turned out to be surprisingly great company, always a good joke - or terrible, depending on your type of humour - and a grin on his lips. It would be a pity if their first meeting would ruin the chance to get to know each other better.

He smiles and turns to leave, but Louis catches him by the wrist.

"Hey. You never did tell me why you keep coming back for the show."

And here's that question again. Liam tries to give it another thought, more clear-headed than last night, when it was all muddled up somehow: Louis and Tommo, fantasy and reality. He thinks of Millie's story, how easy it is to fall for an illusion and how that's not always a bad thing. (He remembers how soft Louis' lips felt, but that doesn't have to do a thing with anything.)

"It makes my life a little brighter for a while," he says finally and finds that he means it.

Louis blinks, then grins a boyish little grin. With his hair artfully mussed up, the light stubble on his cheeks and a cigarette dangling from his mouth, there is barely anything reminiscent of Tommo, the drag queen. It doesn't change how warm Louis' hand feels on his skin or how Liam's heart flutters, but that's just the buzz of the alcohol. He's sure of it.

"Then keep coming."

Liam grins. "I will."

*

It becomes a regular thing: Liam at the club, cheering for Harriette but especially Tommo. He doesn't hide in the back anymore, which is all the better, because now Louis can give him the occasional, flirty little wink or blow him kisses from the stage.

He's not a fool. Whatever Liam's sexuality is or isn't, Louis is not going to make the same mistake twice. But Louis wouldn't be Louis if he didn't tease and Liam seems to take it in his stride - even if it does make him blush every single time. (It's a very cute blush, so Louis doesn't complain.)

And because Zayn is intent on catching up all the lost time he spent on working for other jobs, the lads meeting up afterwards or during the week becomes another regular thing.

Liam turns out to be a lot of fun to hang out with when he's not being oddly shy or an idiot about being Straight(™). He never fails to laugh at Louis' jokes and looks horribly dorky while doing so, his eyes scrunched up and all crinkly. Louis wouldn't be surprised if it was part of a ritual to summon puppies, sunshine and all that is good in the world. It's disgusting and Louis makes sure to pinch Liam's nipple or slap his bum as often as possible to make him laugh even more.

Sometimes, he does wonder: at the way Liam ogles him over his drinks. The way his eyes are glued to the stage in awe. The way he sneaks curious glances over to when a gay couple is sitting next to them, holding hands and kissing. There are times when he seems almost intrigued, in a way, if it weren't also for the fact that he never shuts up about Dani.

"Dani and I were texting the other day ..."

"Dani never liked these kinds of films ..."

"Dani said ..."

Dani - short for Danielle, not Daniel as Louis assumed the first time - is apparently the greatest girl who ever walked the earth. If Liam's puppy looks are any indication, he still hopes they might get back together one day, which is almost as pathetic as the whole Harry-Niall-situation.

Almost.

"Mind if I steal your boyfriend for a dance?" asks the bloke who has been eyeing Harry the whole night. Granted, it's very hard to overlook Harry with that pink flamingo blouse he's wearing, but still.

Niall blinks in confusion, hesitating just a second, then starts to laugh heartily. "What, me and him? Nah, we're not together. Dance away."

He shoves Harry into the stranger's arms and misses how Harry's face falls, how his features go from hurt and pouty to resolute and stubborn in less than five seconds. All he sees is how Harry throws his arms around the stranger's neck with more enthusiasm than necessary and lets himself be led to the dance floor. Niall barely manages to hide the frown behind his glass.

Louis exchanges a glance with Zayn who looks confused, like he wants to ask "how long has this been going on?" Louis wishes he could answer that. It feels like for too long. Instead he leans over to Niall, shouting into his hear to be heard over the music.

"Whatever did you do that for?"

"What do you mean?"

"Why did you let him wander off with that bloke?"

"Because Harry's been waiting for someone to take him dancing all night long. Obviously," Niall says, nodding over to the dance floor where Harry is grinding up against the stranger. He is not exactly graceful, but when he sets his mind to it, there's no way to resist his charm.

Harry's mind is very, very set right now.

Niall tries to hide another frown and, failing, walks over to Liam who's been oblivious to everything that's been happening. They start talking and laughing, Niall pretending to not be bothered by how Harry in turn is pretending to have the time of his life. It's infuriating and Louis wants to smack someone in the head. Preferably Harry and Niall.

Why do they have to be like this?

"What's going on with them?" Zayn asks, baffled.

"I wish I knew," Louis says, downing his drink determinedly, "but whatever it is, I'm going to make it stop."

*

Louis is sitting at the dressing table when Liam enters after a yelled invitation of "get your arse in here, Payne!" He is in the middle of getting ready for his show, so he doesn't look up even as he shaves off the last of his stubble.

Liam smiles. "How did you know it was me?"

"Literally nobody here knocks. You're the only one who even bothers being polite. - Oh thank fuck, you brought food," Louis groans, turning away from the mirror when he notices the smell from the bag Liam is holding. He practically tears it out of Liam's hands and starts wolfing down the chips, razor and makeup abandoned on the dressing table.

Liam tactfully ignores the munching noises and takes a curious look around the dressing room.

_So that's where he keeps his dresses_ , he thinks when he sees the long clothes rail at the wall. There are some costumes that must belong to Harriette - velvet and satin clothes with terribly flamboyant and screaming patterns - and others he vaguely recognises from the other drag queens.

There are also dresses full of glitter and laces: vintage stuff, some of which he has already seen on Tommo. A couple of them are so flimsy they remind him of lingerie and wow, that's an image he won't get out of his head for a while.

He coughs, trying to fight the light blush creeping up his neck. "So why did you want to meet?"

"Liam, babe, I need your help," Louis mumbles, stuffing the last of the chips into his mouth. He keeps chewing for what feels like an eternity, wipes his fingers and then goes on: "matters of the heart."

"Oh?" Liam says, vaguely confused as always when faced with Louis. He is still not sure what he's doing here. Louis' text wasn't very specific, except for the addendum of "bring chips, i'm starving".

"Matters of Harry-and-Niall, to be precise. You must have noticed how badly they pine for each other." He eyes Liam critically as if to make sure that Liam actually did notice. Liam tries to look properly offended; some things may go over his head, but he's not _this_ daft.

"The thing is," Louis goes on, turning back to the mirror, unimpressed, "I know for a fact that Harry likes Niall. And I am pretty sure Niall feels the same about Harry, but he keeps acting like he doesn't care and I just don't know why. And that's where you come in."

„How?“

„I need a wingman. Someone to help me help those idiots out.“

He grabs for a sponge and starts to generously apply makeup. Liam was not aware a person could put that much paint on their face.

"What about Zayn?"

"I can't just send Zayn. Niall will know something's up the moment he mentions Harry. You, on the other hand, are new. Niall likes you and you're trustworthy."

"And Harry?"

"I'll handle Harry. He comes whining to me about his broken, little heart on a regular basis."

Louis goes quiet for a while, completely focused on drawing perfect lines around his eyes and creating the right shadows to accentuate his cheeks. It's a fascinating process: watching Louis disappear underneath layers and layers of makeup until Tommo emerges. At long last, she puts on her wig, smacking her lips and coyly fluttering her fake eyelashes at Liam.

"How do I look?" she asks, her voice still entirely Louis and it should be a weird contrast, but it's not. Not at all.

_Breathtaking,_ Liam thinks, but what he says is: "lovely."

"Alright, then zip me up."

She gets up, turning her back to Liam. There is a long stretch of bare skin revealed by her open dress, so Liam steps forward and carefully does her zip up. Tommo smells faintly of cigarettes and - funnily - aftershave, another thing that should rattle Liam but doesn't. It is that fact, more than anything, that makes him feel light-headed.

"There, all done and dusted," he says weakly.

Tommo smiles sweetly over her shoulder and Liam's mouth goes very, very dry.

_It's okay_ , he tells himself. _It's an illusion. You're supposed to fall for it._

But the odd feeling in his stomach won't go away, even after Tommo steps out of his reach to check herself once more in the mirror.

"So, will you help me?" she asks, brushing some stray hairs out of her face. "That is, if you don't mind playing matchmaker for a gay couple."

Liam frowns. "I'm not homophobic, you know."

"Right." She looks like she's about to say some more, like there's a whole speech waiting to get out of her, but then she just sighs, putting on another smile. "I'll take that as yes."

*

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Liam whispers into Louis' ear.

"Excuse me, this is a _brilliant_ idea." It was Louis' idea - of course it was, all of his ideas are brilliant - to make a horror tour through the London Dungeon. Partly because it would be a great excuse to laugh at everyone's scared faces, partly because it's the perfect opportunity for Harry and Niall to get a bit touchy-feely and, hopefully, over themselves.

"Harry's a giant wuss, he's going to be crying and screaming in less than ten minutes. All Niall has to do is swoop in and be his knight in shining armour."

"I thought we wanted to talk to them first?" Liam says, looking sceptical.

"Talking isn't quite my thing."

A couple paces in front of them, Zayn snorts.

"You could've fooled me," he says, tapping away at his mobile. "Last time I checked, you never shut up."

"Oh, ha ha," Louis says. "What are you even doing? We're about to be frightened to death. You're not allowed to be so blasé about it."

"He's right," Liam says with a frown, "the tour guide's trying to explain something about saftey. It's rude not to pay attention."

Zayn looks back at them with raised eyebrows, but then stows away his mobile without further complaints. Louis cackles with glee, which lands him Liam's elbow to the side.

"That goes for you as well."

"You're ridiculous. How are you even real," he asks Liam, but can't help feeling terribly fond of him all the same.

The guide is, in fact, telling them something about safety and specifics about the tour, but Louis can't bring himself to actually listen. They're at the back of the group, Harry and Niall at the very front. Harry is already gnawing at his lower lip, looking worried, and Louis can practically see him swooning into Niall's arms. This is going to be so easy.

After a couple more minutes, the group finally gets moving. They shuffle through dark corridors while the tour guide is telling them some tragic story about all the poor souls who died here and now the place is - naturally - haunted. Louis is unimpressed, but it is rather chilly down here. Maybe he should have worn more than just a shirt; he's getting goosebumps already.

"Are you cold?" Liam asks, but before Louis can answer someone in the front starts shrieking.

It's Harry who apparently got to be the victim of this night's first scare. His face is comically distorted with fright and when he looks at Niall, Niall bursts into a fit of giggles.

"I don't think this is working," Liam mutters into Louis' ear.

"It will," Louis insists stubbornly. Harry pouts, which only makes Niall giggle harder. "Just give it some time and a couple more scares."

However, the longer the tour goes on and the more often Harry gets scared, the worse it gets. Harry screams at every opportunity, scaring the other people of the group along with him, and Niall does absolutely nothing about it but laugh his arse off. It's infuriating.

One time, Louis actually tries to shove a shrieking Harry into Niall's arms, missing him by half a metre and almost toppling over the tour guide instead. She gives Louis half a confused, half a nasty look, and Liam drags him behind a corner.

"This isn't working," he repeats, this time more insistent. "Maybe we should change plans."

"We're in the middle of a horror tour! We can't just change plans! All we need is a little help ... Maybe we can rope in Zayn and ... Zayn?"

"I think we lost him," Liam says, and after looking around the empty corridor adds in a tiny voice: "I think we lost the whole group."

He is right: it's awfully, suspiciously quiet around them and when Louis looks back around the corner, their group is nowhere in sight. Well, shit.

"We should follow the glowing arrows on the ground," Liam suggests helpfully, "the guide said they'd lead us to the exit in case we get lost."

Louis looks at him, incredulous. "You really did listen to those safety instructions."

"You make it sound like that's a bad thing."

"God, you're such a loser."

"Don't say that," Liam says quietly. It sounds like he is actually a bit hurt, which makes Louis feel guilty.

"Hey, you know I don't mean it that way. I'm a tease, I tease people. It's like my job."

"I know. It's just. They used to say that and ..." Liam trails off, never explaining who "they" were or why thinking of them seems to upset him so much. Louis doesn't inquire, but he pinches Liam's arm, just to make sure he doesn't take it too seriously.

Getting to the exit takes them longer than expected and the only good thing is that, now that they have lost the group, they apparently don't have to go through the tour programme anymore. They don't come across any of the actors nor are there any puppets springing out of the wall. Louis is rather grateful for that. They can hear shrieks and rattling noises in the distance, though, which is unsettling in another way entirely.

He keeps rubbing his arms in discomfort and it's certainly not because he is starting to get spooked by walking through the Dungeon all on their own. It's just the cold. Totally.

There's a rustling next to him and before he realises what's happening, the warm and heavy weight of a jacket rests on his shoulders.

"Take it," Liam says. "I don't get cold that easily."

"Fine. But if you die of hypothermia, don't come back to haunt me."

Louis wriggles his arms into the jacket, which is slightly too big for him and smells a bit like cologne, detergent and something Louis can't quite place but must be all Liam. It's a very nice smell.

When he looks up, Liam is smiling at him as if he is about to say something. Before he can, there's a low agonising moan right next to them. It sounds like someone is dying or has already died and is now trying to come back, specifically to eat them alive. They both jump. Liam even grabs for the hem of Louis' shirt, burying his fingers into the fabric like he never wants to let go. Louis swats his hand away.

"What are you? A five-year-old?" he snaps, pretending that the hairs on the back of his neck don't stand on end. "Here, take my hand, if you're so scared."

When Liam hesitates just a moment too long, Louis pulls an annoyed face. "Don't look at me like that. Your fragile, straight heart can take holding my hand for a while. It won't turn you gay."

Liam takes the offered hand, after all, weaving their fingers together. His skin is surprisingly warm, hot even, and Louis has to suppress a shiver when he can feel the heat seeping into his fingers. Liam wasn't lying when he said he didn't get cold easily.

"We- we should get going," Louis says and starts dragging Liam behind him. He can't wait to get out of this place.

When they do find their way out at last, the light of the foyer feels so bright Louis has to squint. He is acutely aware of how Liam lets his hand slip out of Louis' grip before anyone else sees them and tries not to feel too stung. He fails miserably.

"Oh, there you are!" the tour guide says, relief evident on her face. "I was just going to send someone in after you."

Liam looks flustered at that and starts apologising to the guide, as if it's their fault she can't keep an eye on her group.

Zayn is texting someone on his mobile and Niall is still laughing hysterically at Harry, who looks pale and pouty and miserable. He says something snappish that makes Niall laugh even harder, which in turn makes Harry look very offended. Within seconds they are bickering mercilessly with each other. Someone should probably make them stop, but Louis is not in the mood to be dragged into their argument. He is cranky and his hands feel cold again already.

Zayn eyes the jacket Louis is wearing, then looks at him with an infuriating little smile.

"Is there something you want to tell me, Tommo?"

"Oh, shut up," Louis says, scowling. "I would never. You managed to find yourself the straightest friend in the world."

He pulls the jacket a little closer around himself, catching another whiff of cologne, and sighs.

*

Liam is waiting for Louis in front of a cinema, a small place that seems to focus mostly on LGBT-related and indie films, and he's starting to get nervous. They were supposed to meet twenty minutes ago and Louis still hasn't shown up. People have walked past Liam, eyeing him like he's been stood up and it probably doesn't help that he looks the part, frantically checking his mobile every other minute.

So far, he has resisted the urge to text Louis ten variations of "where are you", because Louis keeps telling him that he needs to be less uptight and ridiculous. But Liam has gone through this before, has been invited only to be stood up on purpose so someone else could have a laugh at him. He doesn't think Louis would actually do that, but just thinking about it makes him feel ill.

_heyyyyy, where r u? did we miss each other? :)))_

He hesitates, then sends the text, hoping it sounds casual enough.

Another couple of minutes pass and Liam is seriously starting to think that Louis is messing with him when the door behind him opens and someone says: "What are you doing out there? Get in."

It's Louis, wearing his usual grin but also a tight white shirt, red braces and a red bow-tie; it's an oddly becoming look on him compared to his usual baggy clothes. Liam blinks. When he doesn't say anything, Louis grabs his hand and starts dragging Liam into the foyer.

"You alright? You look a little ..." Louis waves his free hand vaguely, as if that says it all.

"Uh. Yeah, everything's fine," Liam says, still not understanding what's going on.

"The film's already started. No one else is going to come so we have time to chat."

Louis pulls him over to one of the counters where he lets go of Liam, gets behind the counter and starts busying himself with rearranging sweets and pre-filling paper bags with popcorn. It's only then that Liam starts to catch up.

"Do you work here?" he asks and receives a weird look from Louis.

"Babe. What else does it look like?"

_A date_ , provides his brain which is very uncalled for and also completely silly. It's true, though: when he saw Louis all dressed up, Liam thought for a split second that he got tricked into a date. Which is probably not a very fair thought, because Louis has been nothing but a great friend and hasn't tried to make a move on him ever since. Granted, Louis doesn't seem to have a sense for personal space, either, but from what Liam can tell he is like that with all of his friends.

"I was just surprised," Liam admits, leaning against the counter and watching Louis bustling about.

"About what? That I need money and food like normal people?" Louis stops what he's doing, leaning against the counter across from him with a smirk. "Liam Payne, I may be a fairy but I'm not Tinkerbell. I can't just live off applause and sucking dick."

Liam splutters, feeling himself go red and laughing helplessly. "I mean ... you've got a job."

"The drag queen thing? That often costs me more than I earn. Makeup and costumes are expensive."

"I see ... cute uniform, though," he says, still bubbling with laughter, hooking his finger into one of Louis' braces. He tugs at it, letting it snap back lightly, and when he looks back up Louis' face is awfully close.

His head feels dizzy, all of a sudden, his fingers tingling with the need to tug at the braces again, to move forward and- he doesn't really know what. Louis is smiling, but his body is uncharacteristically still and the look in his eyes oddly intent, like he's facing a skittish animal he doesn't want to scare away.

"How did you get into the drag thing, anyway?" Liam asks eventually, inching away and feeling guilty about it at the same time.

Louis' smile barely falters. He starts moving again, wiping the counter, and it's as if the moment never happened. "When I started, I hid in my bedroom, experimenting with makeup and putting on cheap dresses I bought at second hand shops. It's only when I met my drag mother that I started to get serious about it."

"Drag mother?"

"Someone like a mentor. Another queen who teaches you how to be feminine, shows you around, the whole thing. A bit like the Jedi. Or Sith-Lords," Louis grins, "I was Harriette's drag mother, in fact. Thought I was going to be Zee's, too, but you know how that turned out."

He appears a little wistful about that fact, but then shrugs like it's all long forgotten.

"Was it hard?" Liam finds himself asking, his voice suddenly quiet and careful. He doesn't even know what he means by that: being gay? Coming out? Becoming a drag queen?

Louis cocks his head, first questioningly, then thoughtful, and settles for answering a little bit of everything.

"Sometimes it is, yes. But I love doing what I do. My mum, she always knew I was gay, but she's been especially great about the drag queen thing. She even took the girls to one of my shows and they absolutely loved it. I had to spend an entire afternoon dressing them up afterwards."

He looks so very fond talking about his sisters and for a moment, Liam can practically see it: Louis surrounded by a bunch of little girls, playing dress up together and painting their faces to make them look like princesses. Liam tries to get the image out of his head and fails miserably - it's too adorable.

"They sound great."

"They are. You should meet them sometime."

"I'd like that."

He smiles, feeling weirdly relieved to know that Louis has such a great family, that they didn't give him a hard time for making his dream come true. Or just for being gay. He doesn't know how his own parents or his sisters would react. Maybe they'd be okay with it. Probably ... but that's neither here nor there, since there's nothing to tell.

He coughs, tugging lightly at the wiping cloth that lies forgotten on the counter.

"So, why did I come here today, if I don't even get to see a film?" he asks, trying to change the topic.

"Why, do you want to? We could. I can get us free tickets."

Now _that_ sounds like a date, but Liam is careful not to say it out loud. Fortunately, Louis just keeps on babbling, an annoyed little frown on his face: "It's the Harry-Niall-situation. We need another plan, but we have to be more subtle about it. Harry is still cross with me because of the whole Dungeon disaster."

"I can't believe I'm hearing the words 'being subtle' out of your mouth. It wasn't my idea to make a horror tour," Liam snorts and then, because he has to at least try, "you know we could just talk to them."

Louis wiggles his eyebrows. "But where's the fun in that?"

Liam sighs and looks around, grasping for ideas. He's hungry and the omni-present smell of popcorn is distracting. Also, for some reason, his brain can't seem to let go of the idea of going on a date with Louis. A date watching a film together, perhaps, and ... and ...

"What about a film night?" he blurts.

Louis eyes him, intrigued. "You know, that doesn't sound half bad. It's going to be dark and we can make sure they're sitting next to each other. Throw in some drinks and they're going to be all over each other. You're a _genius,_ babe."

Liam grins, vaguely aware of all the ways this could turn into another disaster. He remembers Louis' small flat and the mess all over the floor and offers quickly: "My place. And no horror movies!"

"Aww, you're such a spoilsport," Louis complains, but he's smiling, wide and mischievous, and Liam can't even be cross.

*

Liam blinks. "Seriously?"

"It's Harry's favourite film. It'll be all romantic and soppy. Trust me."

Liam appears like he trusts Louis as far as he can throw him - which must be quite a bit, considering the size of his arms. Louis is rather fond of Liam's arms. And his smile and his lips and ...

"Isn't it supposed to be really sad in the end," Liam objects, but Louis isn't listening anymore because right then the door bell rings. "I'll get it!" he yells, dashing to the door.

It's Niall and Harry, the former with several pizza boxes in his hands, the latter with a smile on his face. Zayn is nowhere to be seen, but that is nothing new. He is probably going to be so late that he'll have missed half the film by then.

"I brought food," Niall says cheerfully.

"I brought myself," Harry says in his lazy drawl.

"Perfect!" Louis beams and ushers them into the living room.

Liam's flat is nothing too fancy but nicely done up and, as expected, very tidy. It's not hard to find traces of Danielle everywhere: a framed picture of Liam and her on a shelf (she's very pretty, Louis has to admit grudgingly). A neatly folded jumper next to the bed that can't possibly be Liam's unless he likes to wear floral patterns and several sizes too small. (Yes, Louis sneaked a peak into the bedroom. Because he can.) A pink hairbrush and some hairpins in the bathroom.

It's a bit sad, really, but Louis mostly feels annoyed, so he tries not to think about it too much.

"Here, we get the sofa, Liam can have the armchair."

He pushes Niall onto the sofa, then Harry and flops himself down on the other side so Harry won't be able to escape.

"What are we watching?" Niall asks, already opening one of the boxes and pulling out a slice of pizza.

"The Notebook," says Louis.

"Oooh." Harry sighs and gets this teary look and maybe Louis should have known then. But right at that moment, Liam comes back from the kitchen, carrying a large bowl of popcorn.

"Who wants beer?" he asks and everyone cheers loudly.

When all of them are settled with beer and popcorn and pizza, Louis dims the lights, throws the Blu-ray into the player and starts the film. He's not much the type for romantic films, but he doesn't have any intentions of catching much of the plot tonight. He's already eyeing Harry and Niall out of the corner of his eyes, but so far not much is happening: Niall is still eating and Harry looks intently at the telly.

Twenty minutes in, Zayn finally shows up, looks at the seating arrangements and decidedly says: "I'm not sitting on the floor."

So Louis makes room next to him on the sofa, conveniently pushing Harry closer to Niall so that they're sitting pressed up against each other. They don't look very bothered about it and Louis counts that as a first success.

Another twenty minutes in, Harry starts sighing suspiciously.

"What's wrong?"

"Oh, nothing, it's just ... the film." He sighs some more and starts biting at his thumbnail.

"If you're going to be all emotional about it, maybe you should cuddle someone," Louis suggests with an eyebrow wiggle and a pointed look at Niall, "cuddling always helps."

And Harry, the sodding fool, leans over to lean his head on Louis' shoulder. "Thanks, mate. You're the best."

Louis resists the urge to immediately throw Harry off again or strangle him, downing the rest of his beer instead.

He sighs, this time in unison with Harry, and resigns to watch the film. It's really a nice story and any other night, Louis might have enjoyed watching it. (Perhaps together with Liam, his brain provides unnecessarily, because Liam seems like the type for romantic films and a good cuddle. He bets Liam is a spectacular cuddler.)

Right now, he is more occupied with shoving Harry off his shoulder and back towards Niall without being overly suspicious about it. But every time he manages to inch Harry closer to the other side, Harry will keep coming back to snuggle up against Louis.

Louis throws a helpless look over at Liam who seems on the brink of laughter. There's not enough beer in the world to get him through this, so he switches to shots halfway through. By the end of the film he's already feeling decently buzzed, which is all the better, because everything goes awry then.

Harry's been sniffling into Louis' ear for five minutes, when he lets out a loud sob and starts crying shamelessly.

"M'sorry," he says between two sobs, "it's just-"

"The film. Yeah, I noticed." Louis feels a little bit like crying, too, but not for the same reasons. He tries to down another shot only to find that his glass is empty. Again.

"Does anyone have a tissue?"

Niall offers his used pizza napkin. Harry looks disgusted for a second, but since nobody else offers a proper tissue he shrugs and grabs for it anyway, knocking over Niall's glass in the process. Beer spills all over Niall's trousers and, even worse, his pizza.

"Dammit, Harry!"

Niall jumps out of his seat and starts cursing at his wet trousers and Harry by turns, who is still trying to get his sobbing under control. Zayn laughs hysterically and Liam tries to look concerned but bursts into giggles after a few failed attempts.

"Time for shots!" Louis yells, trying not to sound as desperate as he feels.

Filling up shot glasses is a bit of a mess - Liam will not be happy about his carpet in the morning - but he manages, pushing two of the glasses at Harry and Niall who are still bickering back and forth. They both pause to look at Louis, take the shots, hand Louis the empty glasses and go on spitting insults at each other.

Someone behind him snorts, maybe Liam or Zayn, and Louis wants to scream. It's that moment when he decides that it's time to get pissed. He has earned himself that. He has earned complete and utter oblivion and nobody will stop him.

The first couple of rounds the others are still game, but after a while he finds that he's the only one still drinking. Liam shakes his head every time Louis offers him another shot, so Louis ends up drinking for two, because wasting alcohol is a sin.

"Aww, Liam, come on. Just one more. Or five," Louis pleads, sitting on the armrest of Liam's armchair. He resists the urge to sit in Liam's lap, because he is a Good Friend and definitely not trying to make Liam realise he's gay for Louis. No, wait. Gay. Just gay. Not for him, because that would be ignoble and stupid and Louis doesn't do stupid things. He does pinch Liam's nipple, because he's only human.

Liam squeaks and jumps out of the armchair, fleeing over to where Harry and Niall are still pouting and frowning at each other.

"You should tone it down a little or you'll scare him off," says Zayn suddenly next to him, his voice low.

"It's okay. Harry needs a little shove in the right direction from time to time."

"I'm not talking about Harry."

Louis squints at him and Zayn smiles an indulgent little smile that Louis doesn't quite understand. He rarely understands Zayn these days. There was a time when he thought he did, but maybe he was wrong about that.

"We should sing together," he blurts, because he always gets too honest when he drinks, "I miss singing with you."

Zayn cocks his head at that, contemplative. "Maybe we should. For old time's sake. But not tonight."

They both watch Liam trying to soothe Harry and placate Niall at the same time, because he is kind like that. For a moment, the ache in Louis' chest gets so intense that he wants to throw up. Liam is so decent and ridiculous and fit and nice and Louis would never admit it when sober but he wants him so much.

"I know," Zayn says, patting Louis' shoulder.

Wait. Did he say that out loud?

Louis frowns. His head is buzzing and he's not sure about anything he might have said or is saying right now. It doesn't matter anyway. Even if Liam wasn't straight, wasn't clinging so tightly to the idea of being straight, he'd still be too good for Louis. Louis has a tendency to fuck up all the good things in his life.

"And that," he says, definitely out loud this time, "is why I can't have nice things. "

"You can. You just think you don't deserve them."

"But I mess up and then everybody leaves. You did."

"Oh Lou." Zayn sighs and the look on his face is a weird mixture of fondness, exasperation and pity. "You're not the reason I left. It just all got too much. Not everybody's made for being a drag queen."

"You know, I was a little bit in love with you," Louis admits softly. Since he's already being properly honest, he might as well get that out there, too.

"I know. Still not the reason I left."

Zayn smiles and pulls him close, kissing his temple. Louis leans in further, because he likes friendly kisses and he likes Zayn, but he only ends up swaying dangerously on his feet. Zayn chuckles.

"Come on, Tommo. You're drunk and you need to lie down."

Louis feels himself being pulled over to the sofa and after some discussion between Zayn and the others, slumps down on it, letting his eyes fall shut.

"He's completely pissed," someone says.

"We should draw a moustache on his face," suggests someone else who sounds suspiciously like Harry. Louis groans and everybody goes quiet.

"It's alright he can stay here." Probably Liam. "You lot should go home."

There is the sound of several feet shuffling around, some more hushed voices, then a door falls shut and ... silence.

Louis can hear someone tip-toeing around him, can hear the blood pounding in his ears, and is vaguely aware of the fact that he's going to wake up utterly miserable in the morning. There's not much he can do about it now, though.

He drifts off to sleep, dead to the world, and the only thing he remembers is someone covering him with a heavy blanket and a hand, warm and gentle, combing through his hair until he falls asleep for good.

*

Liam is in the kitchen, bustling about and singing quietly to himself. Even though yesterday was a bit of a disaster, he woke up knowing he was not alone in the flat for the first time since forever and it was the nicest feeling. He really has missed this: getting up early and making breakfast for someone, knowing someone will be there to share it, even if it's just Louis.

"... I don't care if you really care

As long as you don't go

So I cry, and I pray, and I beg

Love me, love me

Say that you love me ..."

"That's one of my songs, isn't it?" someone croaks from behind. It's Louis, looking like death warmed up with his crinkled clothes, his pale face, bags under his eyes and his hair a complete mess. Liam can't help grinning at the sight.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."

"You didn't. My head did." Louis winces, scratching his stubbly chin. "You've got a lovely voice, though. You should sing at karaoke night sometime."

Liam laughs. "Not in a million years."

"Is that tea?" Louis asks, coming closer and looking hopeful.

"Yeah. And toast and eggs. I hope you like eggs. I'm not much of a cook and I didn't know what else to make."

Louis pulls a disgusted face. "Ugh, I don't think I'll be able to eat ever again. You eat your eggs, I'll stick to tea."

He pours himself a cup and slumps down at the kitchen table, watching Liam getting his breakfast ready with sleepy eyes. "Has anyone ever told you that you're a disgustingly chipper morning person?"

"No, but-" Liam doesn't get to finish his sentence, because right then his mobile rings.

"Hey Liam."

It's Danielle's voice on the other end of the line and Liam's heart skips a beat. He smiles despite himself, wiping his hands on a kitchen towel. "Oh, hey Dani. How's it going?"

Louis mouths a silent "oh" and gives Liam a weak smile. He still looks miserable and for a moment, Liam is worried that he might actually be sick. But then Dani is talking again and he forgets all about Louis.

"Do you have a moment?" she asks. "There's something I want to tell you."

"Yeah, of course."

Louis sets down his cup slowly, motioning towards the door, and mutters: "I'll, uh, be in the bathroom."

When he gets back he looks somewhat less dishevelled, and Liam has just rung off. His eggs and toast are getting cold, but he couldn't care less; he's not hungry anymore.

"Oh my god, I feel human again. Barely, but I do," Louis starts babbling, still pale and groggy. "Do you have a paracetamol? My head is killing me, but I had another idea about Harry and Niall just now and-"

"No," Liam blurts. His hands are shaking a little, so he puts away his mobile and clenches them into fists. Louis blinks.

"No, you don't have a paracetamol?"

"I mean whatever your idea is, I don't want to hear it."

Louis puts on a placating smile. "I know last night was a bit of a mess and I'm sorry for the carpet, by the way, but this time is going to be different."

"Shut up!" Liam snaps, startling himself and Louis in equal measure. There's a distant anger inside him, burning, growing, and he doesn't know what to do with it. He doesn't get angry, ever. Louis looks at him like he's gone bonkers.

"Liam, what's wrong?"

What's wrong? Oh, so many things. The fact that Louis is sitting in his kitchen right now, for starters, and not Dani like it should be. The fact that Liam has been so busy with helping him out that he hasn't really thought of Danielle in weeks, hasn't called her, hasn't met her and now ... He's spent too much time thinking about Louis and his ridiculous plans. He's spent too much time thinking about Louis.

"Don't you get tired of your so-called plans? Are you even trying? Are you? Because this whole thing feels more and more like an excuse for-" Liam stops himself before he can say something he might regret, but Louis has already caught on.

"An excuse for what?" He narrows his eyes. "For the dangerous gay to prey on his straight friend? That's what you were thinking, isn't it."

Liam doesn't answer, but the way his face heats up probably says it all.

"Of course. After all this time, I thought that maybe-" Louis flails, not elaborating on that. "You know it was _your_ idea for us to become friends. That's what friends do. They hang out. They do stupid things together."

Liam doesn't know what to say. The anger is choking him, making it hard to think, and he just doesn't know how to handle this. This is not him. He could never make Louis look so disappointed, could never make him shrink into himself like that, could never wipe that ridiculous smile off his face on purpose. He loves that smile.

"Liam Payne, you're such a twat," Louis says quietly, when he still doesn't answer. He turns to leave and Liam's anger dissolves into panic.

_Don't go_ , he wants to say, but what gets out is this: "Dani's seeing someone else."

Louis stops dead on the threshold, turning around and looking at him incredulously.

"She just called to tell me," Liam goes on, his voice small and pitiful, "didn't want me to hear it from someone else, so ..."

"That's what's got you so worked up."

Louis deflates a little. He still looks guarded and annoyed, but he's not leaving either. Liam shrugs, hating himself for feeling so miserable, but even more for turning it all on Louis.

Louis looks like he doesn't know what to say for a moment, smiling a smile that looks bitter and all wrong - not at Liam exactly, but perhaps at the situation in general. Then he sighs, walks over to the fridge and pulls off the sticky-note Dani had left him once. There's a drawn heart and a "be back soon!" written on it and Louis waves it in front of Liam's nose.

"How are you ever going to let go, if you keep all this stuff around? Don't think I haven't noticed the pictures and the hairbrush and whatever else you're still hoarding."

Liam splutters. Of course Louis would notice and Liam has no reasonable excuse for it except that he still didn't get around to clean up. As if. He feels awfully caught.

Louis isn't finished with ranting, though. "I don't think you're really in love with her anymore. You're just clinging to the idea of her, of being with someone like her. It's not healthy and it's not fair. Get rid of that rubbish. Get out there. Find yourself someone else already."

He looks at Liam, intently, almost pleading, and Liam wishes he knew the right thing to say.

"I'm trying," he lies, because he hasn't tried at all. All he did was hang out with Louis and for some reason, that was enough. "I just haven't met the right girl yet."

"Girl. Right. How could I forget." Louis snorts, rubbing a hand over his face. He crumples the sticky note and lets it fall to the ground. "I think I should go."

"Don't," Liam says quickly, this time out loud, and then, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean what I said."

"I think that part of you did." Liam winces, but Louis just shrugs carelessly. "And you know what? That's okay. I get it. You're straight. I get overly handsy and I'm sorry if that makes you uncomfortable. I'm not the most considerate friend, probably. I'm a selfish friend. But I _am_ a friend."

He definitely looks hurt now and it's wrong. It's all so very wrong. Liam wants that grin back, the Cheshire cat smile that was just for him. Louis leaves the kitchen, heading for the door in quick strides, and Liam follows him, tongue-tied and feeling like the worst person in history.

Louis hesitates for a moment, like he wants to say something else, but then he just slips out of the door, uncharacteristically quiet, leaving Liam with his greasy eggs and his cold toast.

*

Louis has been waiting for half an hour, bobbing up and down on the heels of his feet, when Liam finally gets out of work. He looks tired and lost in thought and Louis has to take a deep breath before he jogs over, catching him by the wrist.

"Hey!"

"Louis." Liam blinks in surprise and then immediately hunches up his shoulders like a kicked puppy. "What are you doing here?" he asks in a voice that sounds more like: "you're still talking to me - why?"

Louis' stomach clenches a little. "Zayn told me where you work."

He shrugs, grasping for words. He's terrible at making up and usually doesn't have to. He can't stay cross with anyone for very long and when he does, he has made it a rule to just pout forever until someone offers makeup sex or buys him a beer or maybe both. Sadly, Liam isn't the type for either.

He's the type for sincere apologies and texts and calls and if there's anything Louis hates, it's talking about his feelings. It must have shone through, because after a while Liam stopped texting and calling altogether. Trust in Liam to be all considerate and giving Louis space when he actually wants neither.

"You didn't show up at the club," he says, at last, pouting exaggeratedly. "I missed my number one fan."

He is not going to admit it to anyone, but he actually means that. He missed having Liam in the front row, having someone to flirt with. It makes going on stage just that more rewarding, knowing there is someone who is going to love it, no matter what. He has missed _Liam,_ period. But that's something he's even less likely to admit out loud.

"Right. Sorry." Liam fidgets. "I was busy with work lately."

That's a blatant lie and they both know it. Louis lets it slide, because he's tired of fighting. He just wants Liam to be his unattainable, crinkly-eyed, appallingly fit friend again.

"Actually, I was busy tidying out," Liam admits softly, looking at Louis with unsure eyes. "I thought about what you said and you were right. All of Danielle's stuff lying around, it held me back and I got rid of it."

"That's good," Louis says, smiling, and he means it. He is not going to get his hopes up about anything, but he does want Liam to be happy and get on with his life. Even if that means being Straight(™). "Come on, I'll walk you home."

He tucks his arm into Liam's as they start walking down the street, partly because the wind is stinging cold and he didn't bring a jacket (again), partly because he still can't let an opportunity pass to touch Liam. His arms are really very lovely and he smells so nice that Louis can't help leaning in. Liam looks a little flustered about it, but then he always does. That's half the fun.

_Not pulling the straight friend_ , Louis thinks, feeling somewhat guilty. _Just being friendly_.

"I have news as well," he says, purposefully chipper, "we planned a special show tonight."

"Aha?"

"Yes. It's a surprise, so I'm not going to tell you any more. But you're not allowed to miss it or I'm going to be really cross. For real this time."

He grins and wiggles his eyebrows, trying to show Liam that everything is fine, they are fine and can they please stop being awkward about it.

Ahead of them, a couple of young blokes sit on a bench, talking and laughing with each other. Louis pays them no mind, but just as they are about to go past them and round the corner, the blokes start chuckling and leering at their locked arms. Louis has long learned to ignore things like that. Liam, on the other hand, grows stiff in his movements, staring straight ahead as they keep on walking.

Of course. He can hear Zayn's voice inside his head, going on about toning it down and not scaring Liam off and really. He's not the type to listen to anybody's advice, ever, but he likes Liam too much to risk it. If it takes him being all proper and restrained, then he's at least going to try.

"Sorry, I shouldn't have," he says, slipping out of Liam's arm the moment they're around the corner. It stings an unreasonable lot to let go.

Liam stops dead, looking confused for a moment, but then his eyes widen and he shakes his head.

"No, you should! You definitely should. I ... I haven't been the most considerate friend, either, and I apologise for that. I don't want you to think- You're handsy and that's okay. It's part of who you are and I want you to touch me." Louis blinks and Liam starts to blush furiously. It's still as charming as ever. "Uhm. I want you to be handsy. I mean- Oh god. That came out all wrong."

He splutters, hiding his face in his hands, and Louis laughs, feeling lighter than he has in days.

"You're ridiculous, babe."

Liam glares at him through his fingers, his cheeks flushed red, but he's also smiling and that's all Louis ever wanted.

"I just want you to be yourself. That's more than enough," Liam says, as earnest and sincere as only he can be, uncovering his face, "I like you best when you're just Louis."

"Thanks," Louis says weakly and he feels so fond of Liam he might burst. He's probably looking all soppy right now, so he tries to hide it behind a cough.

"So will you come to the show tonight?" he asks and for a moment he lets Tommo slip through, coyly fluttering his lashes and jutting out his hip a little. Liam laughs, his face scrunched up adorably. The ache in Louis' chest is back tenfold.

"I will," Liam promises and, without warning, he pulls Louis into a hug.

They've never properly hugged before, not with Liam always being so skittish, and never like this: bodies pressed together so tightly it almost knocks the air out of Louis, his face buried against Liam's neck.

Maybe Liam wants to prove that he can do this, that he can be a proper friend without reservations. Maybe he's being genuine about it. Louis finds that he doesn't care either way. He melts against Liam for a bit, trying to leech off as much warmth as possible, breathing in the smell of his skin and clothes. He's such a fucking creep, but hey. At least he's got his friend back.

*

The club is _packed_ tonight. Liam even saw them set up extra chairs for the stream of visitors and there are still people standing in the back. Whatever it is Louis and the others have planned, it must be something extraordinary and big.

Liam has arrived especially early today and still ended up sitting at the bar. He's been nursing a beer for about an hour now, growing more curious with every passing minute, and the only redeeming factor about all the waiting was that he had Niall behind the bar to keep him company. Niall is currently busy with handing out drinks, though, and Zayn is nowhere to be found.

_where r u_ , Liam texts for the umpteenth time, getting no answer.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, queens and kings, we are glad you have once more found your way to the 1D," the announcer's voice blares through the club. "Tonight is a night for the history books. Tonight is the reunion we've all been waiting for! They're back for one more show! Can I get a huge applause for the Rude Girls!"

Everyone whistles, claps and yells with wild enthusiasm. Then the lights go out and the audience breaks into hushed whispers. Music starts playing and a spotlight switches on, revealing Harriette posing in the middle of the stage. She blows a kiss at no one in particular and breaks into song.

"If there's a price for rotten judgement

I guess I've already won that

No man is worth the aggravation

That's ancient history, been there, done that!"

She throws her arms up in the air, the music stopping just for a split second. Two more spotlights switch on to reveal Tommo and some drag queen Liam has never seen before standing behind Harriette. They, too, throw their hands up and chime in:

"Who'd'you think you're kidding?

He's the Earth and heaven to you.

Try to keep it hidden.

Honey, we can see right through you ..."

They both twirl to stand in line next to Harriette and the unknown drag queen winks at the audience, flipping her long dark hair over her shoulder. It's only then that Liam recognises Zayn and spits out his beer.

"Oh my god!"

He has never seen Zayn in drag before, but it's obvious that the crowd loves him - her -, going by the catcalls and cheers she's getting. It's not really a surprise: Zayn is already handsome, Zee is gorgeous. But then again, they all are.

The three of them are dressed in pink flowing gowns that remind Liam of Greek togas, only with much more creatively placed slits to show off bare skin and legs. Harriette wears seashells in her pinned-up hair, while the other two seem to have a cupid theme going on: Tommo wears neck-breakingly high heels that have tiny golden wings sticking out on each side; Zee holds a small, glittery bow and arrow in her hand.

"They're quite something, aren't they?" Niall says from behind the bar, throwing a paper napkin at Liam whose chin is still dripping wet.

"Yes," Liam breathes, dabbing his face absent-mindedly, "yes, they are."

He watches as Tommo and Zee start dancing, while Harriette keeps singing woefully about how she's not in love. "Did you know about this?"

"Of course. I watched them practising for the past week."

It takes some effort to tear his gaze away and look at Niall who seems as mesmerised as Liam feels. Niall is smiling at what's happening on the stage, but when Liam follows his gaze, it's really only one of the queens he keeps staring at.

"You really like him, don't you?" Liam asks before he can stop himself. "Harry, I mean."

Niall blinks, then proceeds to prepare glasses for the next round of customers.

"Me and Harry, eh?" he says, laughing, but he's not denying it either.

Liam considers leaving it at that. He and Louis have already meddled too much with the "Harry-and-Niall-situation" as it is and it never seemed to lead anywhere. But Niall has this wistful little frown on his lips, a look he's seen just as often on Harry and ... it's just so darn stupid, isn't it? They both like each other so much, yet they keep endlessly circling each other like two planets in the same orbit, always chasing but never meeting.

"You could just go and ask him out, you know. I'm sure he'd say yes."

Surprisingly enough, Niall smiles. "Of course I could. Of course he'd say yes. I could ask him 'fancy a shag' any day and it wouldn't even be weird, but that's not the point. It never was."

He stops what he's doing to glance at the stage where Zee pretends to shoot Harriette with an arrow in the heart. She staggers a little, as if mortally wounded, only to bounce back shortly after with a wide, flirty grin. The crowd erupts with laughter.

"Harry's just ... he's Harry," Niall shrugs, the tone in his voice endlessly fond, "he's flirty and breathtaking and he's got so much love to give. That's exactly what's so great about him. But it wouldn't _mean_ anything and I'm not- I don't want to be just another notch in his bedpost."

"Maybe he'd like it to be mean something," Liam suggests, thinking of how soft Harry's face grows around the edges when Niall is around.

"I don't think so." Niall laughs again. "You can't just tie down Harriette Mahogany."

Liam almost gets it then: Louis' adamant persistence and the burning need to take action - almost wants to say something himself to make Niall finally understand. But it's not his place to do so and neither is it Louis', he can see that now. This is something Harry and Niall have to figure out all on their own.

"What about you?" Niall asks, all of a sudden.

"What about me?"

"You and Tommo. I've seen the way you look at her."

Liam feels an inexplicable giggle bubbling up in his chest and tries to hide it behind another sip of his beer.

"Oh. Oh no. That's not- We're not-," he stutters, shaking his head, "I like girls. And she's not. Not really and - uhm."

"No, she's definitely not," Niall agrees, eyeing him thoughtfully, and then goes back to watching the show.

The song is almost over by now and Zee has thrown aside her bow and arrow in favour of dancing alongside Harriette and Tommo. Tommo looks like she's having the time of her life, her tawny wig tousled and her cheeks visibly flushed, even underneath all that makeup. It's a lovely sight, beautiful even.

Liam can't deny that he has thought about it. It's a fantasy that he indulges in from time to time: holding Tommo in his arms, kissing her, being the one she's been waiting for, the one she keeps singing about all the time.

But it's just that: a fantasy. And underneath all that artfully applied makeup and the fancy dresses is still Louis. Just Louis, with his five o'clock shadow and his baggy shirts and his lips that are always quirked into an amused little smile.

(Lips that he has _kissed_ already. One time, just once, but it could have turned into more if only Liam let it happen. He can almost feel Louis' breath on his lips again, can hear his rough voice in his ear:

_Boyfriends. Who needs 'em, right?_

What would have happened after that? Would Louis have taken his hand and taken him to the bedroom? Would he have skipped the bedroom altogether and just stayed right there in the kitchen-slash-living room to do - what exactly? Jerk each other off? Give him a blowjob?

And, oh god, just the thought of having Louis in front of him, on his knees, makes his trousers feel tighter than he's comfortable to admit and-)

He blinks back into the present, just as Tommo and Zee lean on Harriette's shoulder for their last lines.

"Girl, don't be proud, it's okay, you're in love," they sing and Harriette sighs one more time into the microphone.

"Oh, at least out loud,

I won't say I'm in love!"

They end the song with a couple of "oooh"s and "shalala"s and the club explodes with applause the moment the last note has faded. The Rude Girls grin and fall into each other's arms, hugging right on the stage at their successful one-time-reunion. Tommo looks so happy and so proud it makes Liam's heart ache.

Him and Tommo.

It was never really a thought he entertained in earnest, but now that it's there, it won't stop poking at the back of his mind. He shifts in his seat, trying to ease some of the pressure off his dick.

Him and Louis.

But Louis is a man and that's just ridiculous, isn't it.

_... is it?_

*

"So the problem is that he thinks Harry's not serious about it?"

"More or less, yeah."

Louis leans back against the wall, mildly annoyed about the fact that all their work was for nothing, but mostly just distracted by the fact that he can feel Liam's chest pressing against his arm. The music is loud but really not that loud and there's no reason for Liam to lean in that much whenever they're talking. Not that Louis is complaining. Did anyone say he's complaining? He's most definitely not.

They decided to go out and celebrate their successful show from last night. Niall is off somewhere getting drinks and they've been watching Harry swaying more or less (mostly less) gracefully on the dancefloor. Right now he's trying to get Zayn to join him even though he knows very well that Zayn refuses to dance when he's not in drag.

"I don't think there's anything we can do about that," Liam goes on, his mouth brushing against Louis' ear. Louis tries to ignore the shiver running down his neck, clenching and unclenching his free hand that's not holding a drink. "Harry's got to sort that out on his own."

"I guess then we'll be waiting for them to get their heads out of their arses forever." He snorts, nudging Liam in the side. "At least that means you won't have to endure any more of my plans. Lucky you."

"They weren't all terrible. And we had fun, didn't we?" Liam's eyes crinkle as he laughs. He nudges back just a little before leaning in again. "You were fantastic on stage, by the way. All of you, but especially you."

"Ah," Louis says, because he doesn't know what else to say. He's never been good with taking compliments. "Harry and Zayn are the real stars of the show, though. I'm just the bird at the back filling up the harmonies."

He isn't being falsely modest. He knows he hasn't got Zayn's vocal range or Harry's stage presence, knows that the Rude Girls always would have worked just as well without him. He's okay with that, likes to keep reminding himself of these things, because staying firmly on the ground is easier than falling.

Liam frowns. "You keep doing that."

"Doing what?"

"The songs you keep singing, about not being a winner, the things you say about yourself sometimes ... You keep putting yourself down and I don't know why." He almost looks disappointed. Maybe he's a little tipsy, too, because he grabs Louis' arm and keeps shaking him with every word to drive the point home.

"Why do you think I kept coming back for the show? I saw something in you that moved me. It takes another sort of courage and talent to do that, to lay your heart bare like that," he says like that's a thing a real person would just say, open and unbearably sincere. Louis looks down at his feet and is grateful that the lighting in the club is so dim because he feels warm all over.

"Oh, you're ridiculous. Thanks, I guess?"

Liam eyes him intently for a moment. Seemingly satisfied, he nods and smiles adorably, which only makes matters worse. "I could never do what you do."

"Oh, but you could", Louis pipes up, grateful for something to say that's not bashful stammering or "please let me kiss your stupid face". "I've heard you sing."

Liam shakes his head forcefully.

"I've been forced to go on stage for school once or twice and it was a disaster: stuttered my way through it, sweating and shaking. Mostly, it just gave the bullies in my class more reasons to laugh at me. After that, I swore to never set foot under a spotlight again." He tells Louis this like he'd tell someone that he went to do the grocery shopping yesterday. He even laughs, albeit a bit muted, and Louis stares.

"I didn't know. I ... sorry."

Liam shrugs good-naturedly. "It's okay. It's not like I'm planning to have a career as a singer."

Louis can't even imagine not being on stage. Having that possibility taken away from Liam by some bad experiences feels horribly unfair. But that is not what is making the hairs on his neck stand on end right now.

"No, I meant the bullying. Did they beat you up?" he asks, not quite sure if he wants to know, but - fuck. He needs to know.

"Some. Mostly it was calling me names or laughing behind my back. Pretending to be nice and not letting me in on the joke. That kind of stuff. It got better after I took up boxing, but it screwed up my sense for subtleties a bit. Sometimes it's still hard for me to read people."

Well, that explains a lot: the stage fright, the way some jokes seem to go over Liam's head, the way he froze when they walked past those laughing teenagers. For a moment Louis feels so dizzy with anger that he can hardly breathe. He has never felt the need to protect Liam, but right now he does. He wants to kick and spit fire at everyone who ever dared hurting him.

"You should have told me earlier. I would've understood. I would've reacted differently when- you know," he protests, waving his hand to indicate the countless times they just seemed to talk past each other.

"Being bullied is not an excuse for acting like a dick." Liam laughs. He is being so unbearably blasé about all of it that Louis wants to shake him. He downs his drink instead to calm down a little.

"I got some crap for being the gay kid, but never like this. I know I'm lucky. Not everyone has supportive friends or family. I know drag queens who hide what they're doing from their loved ones. Heck, some of them even hide that they're gay." His gaze flickers over to Liam for a second, before he leans back against the wall again. "It's just ... I don't think it's worth it, you know? I'd rather be myself and be hated for that than pretend to be someone I'm not and be miserable for the rest of my life."

Talking about being bullied didn't seem to bother Liam, but Louis' last words actually might have. He stares, taken aback and oddly vulnerable. For a while, he says nothing at all, glancing around the club, down at his feet, then back at Louis.

"I ...", he starts, hesitantly, like he is searching for the right words to say. "What if-"

"There you are, mates!" Niall yells cheerfully and just this side of drunk, carrying drinks and bottles for what looks like half the club. "Why are you hiding in this corner? Thought I'd never find you again!"

"We haven't moved a bit since you left," Liam protests, but he laughs, his unfinished sentence abandoned and forgotten. Louis may never get to hear the end of that "what if" and he wants to scream.

Ignoring Louis' miffed look, Niall pushes a bottle of beer into Liam's hand, gives Louis his ordered drink and then still has one cocktail left. "I'm just gonna go and bring Zayn his drink."

"I think Zee's busy right now," Louis says dryly, nodding over to where Zayn is talking to a girl. She is right up Zayn's alley, drop-dead gorgeous and blonde, and Louis is pretty sure Zayn wouldn't appreciate it if Niall came barging in on them, too.

"Oh. Well then. What do I do with that drink now?"

"I could take it," someone says from behind. It's a bloke not much older than them, his hair dark and curly, leering at Niall with obvious interest and a lopsided grin.

"I haven't seen you here before, have I?" he asks, which has got to be the oldest and lamest chat-up line in history, but at least he's cute and has a nice bum. He looks a bit like Harry with short hair, in fact, which is probably why Niall cocks his head in consideration.

"You might have," he replies. They start talking, muttering into each others ears and laughing from time to time.

It's been a while since Niall was actually chatted up when they all went out together. It's not that Louis isn't happy for him, but he's a little worried about Harry's reaction. Sure enough, five minutes later Harry stalks up to them, frowning.

"Excuse me," he yells over the music, tapping the guy's shoulder. "Oi!"

It takes both Niall and the stranger a while to notice, but when they do, the bloke turns around, raising his eyebrow. "And you are ...?"

"I'm his- his ... I'm his and he's taken. Sod off," he demands, looking about as threatening as a ruffled kitten. Louis mentally awards him with points for trying, though.

The bloke looks back and forth between Harry and Niall, not sure whether to be amused or angry. There's a moment where he almost seems ready to make a scene - he doesn't look exactly sober, either - but then Niall steps between them, shielding Harry.

"Sorry, mate," he says, pushing the leftover cocktail into the guy's hand and motioning for him to leave. Niall isn't very threatening either, but he has got his way with people - has to have, working as a bartender in a club like the 1D. He has de-escalated more arguments than Louis can remember, with a calming smile, the right words or sheer power of will. Louis is secretly convinced Niall's a Jedi. He must be doing his mind trick again, because eventually the bloke simply shrugs and sods off without further complaint.

"What the hell, Harry." Niall snorts, turning around. "What was that all about?"

Harry has his lips pressed together in a stubborn pout, but his eyes are wide and terrified. His gaze flickers over to Liam and Louis, who nods encouragingly for what it's worth - Louis is not sure he even notices. _Do it_ , he thinks, _be brave, Harry, and fucking do it_.

Harry fidgets, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear, and then blurts: "I mean it."

"Mean what?"

"That I'm yours. And I'd like you to be mine."

Niall's face runs through an interesting mix of emotions, before he settles for a self-deprecating smile. "Oh Harry. Everybody knows you're a bit of a heartbreaker," he says. It's probably supposed to be teasing but he sounds sad more than anything.

"I know I'm not good at this stuff, but I'd never-" Harry's eyes widen before he shakes his head furiously. "I'd never just fool around with you. Sure, I'd very much fancy a shag because look at you and your arms, but that's not even half of it. I've been wanting to kiss you since forever. I want to wake up next to you. Not just tomorrow, but next week and next year and maybe even longer than that. So yeah, I mean it: I'm yours. If you'd have me."

He looks terrified again, with his heart laid open and Niall's expression unreadable, so he does what he's always been best at: being his ridiculous, infuriating, glorious self. He pulls his shoulder up into a shy half-shrug, fluttering his lashes once, twice. And then he quotes what Louis thinks must be Notting Hill, because Harry is a sappy fool and also an idiot: “I'm just a girl, standing in front a boy, asking him to love her."

Niall stares at him. And stares and stares and then bursts into laughter.

"You ruined the moment, Harry," he says, but his eyes shine, bright and happy, and he tugs at Harry's shirt to pull him closer. Harry's face goes soft and utterly relieved. He means to say something, but Niall shuts him up with his mouth and then they're kissing, unexpectedly gentle and careful. Someone bumps into them while walking by. They don't seem to care or notice, until they finally break apart on their own accord, both looking dazed and breathless.

Niall leans in, whispering something into Harry's ear, their hands woven together, and it's such a sweet, intimate moment in the middle of this loud club full of drunk people, that Louis has to hide a smile. He kind of wants to roll his eyes, too, but mostly he's smiling. Fucking finally.

He turns away, trying to give them some privacy, and catches Liam smiling as well. He looks happy for Harry and Niall, but he's worrying his lip and his nose is scrunched up in thought. There's ... something. Something eating at him, running through his head, and Louis is almost tempted to poke at it, because he can't not poke at Liam.

What if, indeed.

But then he remembers Zayn's words ( _you'll scare him off_ ), remembers Liam pulling back after their first and only kiss, remembers his confused and shocked face, and ... he lets it slide. Because sometimes shutting up is more important than being right.

And staying firmly on the ground is so much easier than falling.

*

_let yourself in. door's open xxxx_

Liam looks from his mobile at the backdoor of the 1D, the one where he met Louis for the first time so many months ago. When he tries the handle it swings open easily, so he steps in. The club is completely dark and empty, the chairs upturned on their tables, and there is no one in sight.

"Louis?"

"I'm up here!"

The lights flash on, revealing an equally empty stage apart from two barstools in the centre. Louis appears from behind the curtains, walking up to the edge of the stage with an ominous grin.

"What are we doing here?" Liam asks, because he still doesn't know. Louis ordered him here in the middle of a Wednesday; the club won't be open for hours. Louis' grin grows wider, mischievous, making him look like a Cheshire Cat more than ever. It dawns on Liam that he might be caught in the middle of one of his Plans and that maybe he should run.

"We are going to sing."

Liam snorts with laughter. "We - what?"

"We're going to sing together. Up here, now."

Liam's laughter dies down, because Louis doesn't seem to be joking. Of course he's not. "I don't do that. You know I don't."

"Babe, you do. You do it all the time when you think nobody is listening. Look around. Nobody's here now. Just me."

Liam wants to protest, because he can't possibly go on a stage and sing, even if no one's there and-

And there is Louis' hand reaching out for him, Louis smiling encouragingly, and Liam feels a sudden rush of heat. Louis is daring him. Liam has learned that when Louis is daring him, he can't help but just go along and do it. He clasps Louis' hand and lets himself be pulled onto the stage. The club appears bigger from up here: Liam can barely see the bar and the last rows of tables or maybe that's just the spotlight blinding him.

"You see? The hardest part is already done."

"Oh god, I can't do this," Liam mutters under his breath while Louis pushes him onto a stool and takes the one beside him.

"You once told me that I keep talking myself down and maybe you're right about that," Louis starts, ignoring Liam's faint look. "I had some shitty relationships that took a lot out of me. I got dumped so many times I can hardly count. Doing drag was always an outlet for me, something I could put all that frustration into and turn it into something good. It allowed me to be someone different."

Louis throws him a glance, before he lets his eyes wander over the empty seats where he's probably used to seeing lots and lots of people waiting for him to perform. "Tommo she's ... she's a story that I'm trying to tell. A contradiction. She's coy and flirty, she's glamour and failure. She tries, always tries, but it's never quite enough and so life fucks her over and over. But at the end of the day she always gets back up again. Tommo sings what I can't say."

It's weird hearing him talk about Tommo as if she's an entirely different person, when to Liam she's just another side of Louis. Someone he doesn't dare to show otherwise or only in the rarest, most precious moments when he's not being loud and obnoxious.

"Louis," Liam starts again, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt, "I'm not a performer."

"I'm not saying you have to be. But I think that you do enjoy singing and it's not fair that a couple of bullies took that joy away from you. And I think that taking it back could help you like doing drag did with me," he says, unusually gentle and careful. "Please. You're my friend and I want to do this for you."

And oh, Louis is right. Liam does love singing: in the shower, while cooking, in the car, belting out whatever song he likes best at the moment. At least until someone walks in or drives past and then he goes quiet immediately. He has never realised it before, but now he isn't sure how he could ever not notice: that sour taste of shame and bitterness whenever he felt caught. It's there now, right at the back of his throat, and it makes him angry. He can't let those bullies win, even after all those years.

_I won't let them be right._

"Alright," he agrees shakily. "One song."

Louis' face breaks into a grin and he jumps up from the stool, excited. "Take the mic. I'm going to start the music."

He runs backstage, presumably to where the mixer and system must be, and a few moments later he returns while the club fills with the tinkling of a piano chord. It's a Tommo song: Liam recognises that mix instantly, knows the song by heart, actually, but he still lets Louis sit down on the free stool and go ahead on his own - for now.

"When you were here before

Couldn't look you in the eye

You're just like an angel

Your skin makes me cry ..."

Liam tries to ignore the lights and the stage, tries to forget the memories of clammy hands and cackling classmates in the audience, and draws the microphone up to his lips. He joins Louis, hesitating, barely audible beneath the current of Louis' voice, and his heart feels like it's going to burst right out of his ribcage ... but he does sing.

"... But I'm a creep, I'm a weirdo ..."

He feels a tug at his sleeve and when he looks up, Louis winks encouragingly at him. _You're doing great, babe_ , is what he seems to say. Liam can almost hear it in his mind and the corner of his mouth twists up a little. Their fingers brush when Louis wants to pull his hand back and Liam snatches it, holding on for support. Louis lets him, weaving their fingers together loosely. It gives Liam the boost he needs to notch it up a little, his voice growing louder and more confident.

"... I want you to notice

When I'm not around

You're so fucking special

Oh, I wish I was special ..."

This is ... not so bad. He is starting to enjoy this, the way their voices weave through the empty club in harmony, the way Louis is smiling at him like he's the only person in the world worth smiling at. Louis looks so soft in the spotlight, the edges blurring, fuzzing into brightness.

_And oh, but he's beautiful_ , Liam finds himself thinking and then: _oh._

Because he has never had that thought before, not without fancy dresses or makeup, and still. It's there and it's true. Louis is beautiful like that, singing his heart out with his raspy voice, not always perfect but always raw and honest.

_Tommo sings what I can't say._

But there's no Tommo here now, is there? Just Louis with his baggy hoodie, his messy hair, his mischievous little smile and his bright, bright blue eyes ... and Liam can't stop staring, can barely breathe even while he keeps singing the last lines of the song.

"But I'm a creep

I'm a weirdo

What the hell am I doing here?

I don't belong here

I don't belong here."

The music runs out, Louis finishing with a quiet sigh, and even through the haze, Liam can't help thinking: _shit. Shit, shit, shit_.

"Now, that wasn't so bad, was it?"

Louis' smile is breathtaking - how did he never notice that before - and Liam nods lightly, placing the microphone in his lap. Their fingers are still intertwined and Liam is acutely aware of every stretch of their skins touching.

"Everything alright?" Louis asks when Liam still doesn't say anything.

_I thought I was falling for an illusion but maybe it's been you all along_ , he thinks, but he can't possibly say that out loud. Instead he blurts: "What's it like? Being in love with a man?"

Louis starts, knitting his brows together in genuine surprise. "I wouldn't know the difference? Never been straight. I guess the basics are pretty much the same: you fall in love with the wrong person, you get your heart broken, rinse and repeat. Only the sex involves twice as much dick." He wiggles his eyebrows, trying a grin, but Liam doesn't feel very much like laughing. Louis' fingers feel like they're burning into his hand.

"Louis!" he protests, going just a little red. "Be serious!"

"I am!" Louis yells, which he is clearly not, not smirking like that and poking Liam in the side with his microphone. "Shall I explain you how it works? Do you know where the Top in Tommo Top Dollar comes from?"

"I know how it works! I have internet access and I have seen stuff-" Liam starts, groaning, and then stops dead.

Louis' eyes widen. "Don't tell me-", he says, sounding positively delighted. "Liam Payne, have you watched gay porn? You naughty little boy."

He is still grinning, but his eyes are hooded and he looks ... he looks intrigued. "And did you like it?"

"Yes," Liam admits in a sudden bout of bravery.

He didn't watch a lot, but it was enough to get the gist of it and to realise that he might not be that averse to trying it himself. And he did think about that Top in Tommo Top Dollar far more than he cares to admit.

"Louis ... I think I need to kiss you," he says, light-headed with how easily the question slips out.

Louis hasn't said anything so far. He has just put a side his microphone and sat there giving Liam proper time to think, but now he smiles at him with an inviting quirk of his mouth. "Then what are you waiting for?"

And just like that, Liam leans forward, brushing their lips together. It's nothing more than a chaste kiss, no tongue, yet Liam pulls away feeling dizzy and electrified. Louis' fingers twitch in his hand, but apart from that he stays completely still: waiting, watching him through half-lidded eyes.

Liam licks his lips, trying to decide- he's not exactly sure what. "Can I try again?"

"As often as you like," Louis says, definitely a little teasing now.

Liam can never resist one of Louis' dares and so he leans in again, this time for an open-mouthed kiss. The microphone rolls off his lap onto the floor, but he doesn't care because Louis is kissing him back, licking into his mouth, and if he weren't sitting already his knees might give out under him. He has kissed a couple of girls before, but none of them have made him feel like this: weak and torn open like a wound and hot and breathless, all at the same time.

The way Louis is kissing him is unbearably gentle and restrained, but that's not what Liam wants right now. He wants- he _wants,_ so badly, so he fists his hands into Louis' hoodie, pulling him closer and knocking over his stool in the process. Louis gasps into his mouth, equally surprised and excited, until he gets up himself for more leverage.

Liam lets one of his hands wander lower, almost slipping it below the waistband of Louis' trousers, but his courage fails him at the last moment. He slips lower and places it below Louis' hip instead, just right next to his crotch - at least that's where he intends to put it - and oh. Oh. He didn't mean to, but now he's groping Louis who is already half-hard under his touch.

Liam squeezes and Louis, beautiful, humble, loud and messy Louis, moans into his mouth.

"Liam ... wait ...," he breathes in between kisses, but Liam can't possibly stop now, not when he knows what kind of noises he can get out of Louis. Louis grinds against his hand, breathing hard, until he doesn't anymore. He stops, gripping Liam's arms tightly.

"Wait."

*

"... wait," Louis groans, keeping himself from pushing further into Liam's hand with a desperation he might have felt the last time when he was a teenager. He has to close his eyes and breathe several times to gain enough coherence for his next words. "Maybe we should take this somewhere else."

It's not that he gives a fuck about anyone who might walk in, as long as he gets to keep touching and kissing Liam. But he has a notion that Liam might care. Wouldn't want to give him his next scarring experience on a stage. And depending on how far he is willing to go, a bed and some proper lube might actually be nice.

Liam bites his lower lip - red, spit-slick, slightly swollen and oh god, Louis' dick twitches again at the sight - and nods. But he's also starting to realise what is happening, the dazed look in his eyes growing clearer with every second. And there's that wide-eyed self-consciousness, the one that Louis has seen so often whenever they were getting too close.

Liam looks scared again and Louis is suddenly close to feeling the same ( _oh god what if I fuck up, I always fuck up_ ) so he has to stop and pinch Liam's nipple to shake him out of it.

"It's alright," he says, not sure if he is talking to Liam or himself. "Just let me kill the lights and we can go to my place? My flat's only a five minute walk away."

"I know," Liam says, something flashing in his eyes, "you said- you said that the last time."

"Well, I hope you're not expecting coffee again!" Louis laughs.

He doesn't wait for an answer, wiping his sweaty palms on his trousers, and jogs backstage behind the curtains. His heart is thumping heavily in his chest and if he takes a little extra time to turn off all the switches, then so fucking be it.

After he is done, he takes one more breath before he returns to the stage. It's empty, save for two microphones and two barstools, fallen over and forgotten in the centre. It's almost physically palpable: that empty space where a person should be standing but isn't. He doesn't need to call out to know that Liam isn't somewhere in the back of the club or hasn't disappeared to the loo.

Louis just stands there for a while, trying to gather what feels like the very rest of his dignity and also the energy move the stools back to the bar. Niall will be annoyed if his bar isn't in proper order and the stage needs to be clear for tonight's first performance.

It's okay. It's not like it hasn't happened before. It's not like Louis isn't used to that kind of shit. He falls in love with the wrong person - or is it the right person but maybe he is wrong all along? - and he gets his heart broken.

Rinse and repeat.

*

Liam manages to hide from the rest of the lads and evade any texts or calls for about one and a half weeks, claiming that he's tired or otherwise busy. At least until Zayn is standing outside his flat, ringing relentlessly the doorbell.

"Liam! I know you're in there. Stop being a dramatic coward."

Liam winces but goes to open the door before his neighbours can start complaining about the noise.

"What-" he starts, just when Zayn pushes right past him into the flat. Zayn is the most easygoing person Liam knows, but now he seems winded and annoyed, facing him with a raised eyebrow.

"What's going on between you and Louis?"

Liam slowly closes the door. "Uhm. Nothing?" he tries.

Zayn tsks. "I love you, Li, but don't test my patience. I swore to myself I wouldn't get involved, but Harry and Niall are too busy being gooey at each other, so I guess it has to be me. Something's up. Tell me."

Liam is a terrible liar. He knows this and Zayn know this, so even trying to come up with an excuse would be nothing more than futile. Still, Liam is very, very tempted to avoid telling Zayn about the whole mess that has been his life lately. He wouldn't even know where to start.

"Tommo has been singing musical numbers about heartbreak all week long," Zayn goes on insistently, folding his arms for more dramatic effect, "and you know something's wrong when he whips out Barbra Streisand."

There's a twinge in Liam's stomach at that. "He has?"

Zayn cocks his head lightly in confirmation and the guilt Liam has been trying to ignore for the past week comes back like a wave crashing over him.

His mind has been a mess since the past week. All he could think about was what happened at the club, about what it means, trying to match up all the weird moments in his life that never seemed to make sense until now: the funny feelings he got when his male math teacher with the blue eyes had smiled at him, the way he felt mesmerised by gorgeous men he met and couldn't explain why, all the many, tense moments between him and Louis. Especially those.

Liam swallows hard. "Fuck. Zayn, I think I'm gay."

And that's how it spills out of him, the whole story: from the first time Louis tried to seduce him to their first kiss, from Louis' silly plans to Liam's growing attraction for Tommo which turned out to be a growing attraction for Louis, from their second kiss to Liam's second escape. Sometime in the middle of his account, Zayn coaxes him gently to the sofa where Liam cuddles up against him, Zayn's arm around his shoulder.

"... you don't seem surprised," Liam says when he's finished and neither of them says anything for a while. Zayn smiles.

"Let's be honest here: I noticed you checking me out the first time we met. You might not have realised it, but I certainly did."

"Oh," Liam says, bashful, because - well. Zayn might be right about that. He still remembers how stunned he was by Zayn's beauty, but that's an effect Zayn seems to have on people of every gender and sexual orientation so Liam didn't think much of it.

"And now what?" he asks quietly. Having told Zayn the whole story has put some of his thoughts in order, but now he feels empty and aimless. "I'm gay?"

He doesn't say it like a question, but not exactly like a statement either. More like a suggestion, an idea he's trying out. Zayn rests his chin on Liam's shoulder the way he always does. It's nice that some things stay the same.

"If that's the word you want to use."

"Then was all of it a lie? My first kiss? All the other kisses? Dani?"

"That's not how it works, Li. Maybe you liked girls back then, maybe now you don't anymore. Maybe you're bi. It's not all black and white, you know?" says Zayn softly, squeezing Liam's shoulder, "but all evidence points to the fact that, yes, you're into dick. Probably."

Liam can see Zayn's little smirk out of the corner of his eye and can't help grinning himself. He thinks of Louis' stubble that burned his cheeks, thinks of how intoxicating it was to be the reason that Louis got harder and harder under his touch. Yeah. Very likely into dick. Probably.

If he's being honest, really honest, to himself, liking men isn't what bothers him in the first place. He has gay and bisexual friends - obviously - and it's not that he's weirded out by the fact that he wants to get in bed with Louis, but ... he's scared of what other people might say - his family, people at work or even strangers on the street.

"Zayn, I just left the baggage from school behind me. I was finally starting to feel comfortable in my skin again. I can't-" he sighs, trying to find words for the dread eating away at him, "I've been the object of ridicule and scathing comments half of my life. It would be so much worse if I came out, wouldn't it."

Zayn sighs. "I can't tell you that. Everybody's experience is different. But others have gone through it and worse. Don't insult them or yourself by saying that you couldn't do it. You can stay in the closet, if that's what you want. But I know you, Liam. You're braver than that and more importantly: you're not alone."

Zayn puts on an encouraging smile, pulling him in for a hug and kissing him on his forehead. Liam still feels shaken and doubtful, but he also knows that Zayn is right. He hates keeping secrets and just the idea of making his entire life a lie feels worse than any possible insult people could throw at him. It's just like Louis said the other night: _I'd rather be myself and be hated for that than pretend to be someone I'm not and be miserable for the rest of my life._

"Is he alright?" he blurts, because just thinking about Louis lets the guilt well up inside his chest again. 

"He thinks he's not letting anything on, but everyone can see he's miserable," Zayn answers without missing a beat, clearly knowing whom Liam is talking about. "Li, I know you got scared, but why did you have to run away like that?"

That's a good question. Liam still isn't sure about the answer. "I ... I had to think of something he said the first time we met. 'I don't do relationship drama.' Zayn, he said that. And- I just got so overwhelmed? I barely know what I'm feeling and he's _so_ ... what if I'm too much relationship drama? What if he only wants it to be a shag? What if it's one of his silly plans to make me admit I'm gay?"

"Do you really think he'd do that? That he'd make a prank out of you coming out?" Zayn asks sharply. He has been nothing but patient and understanding, in this calm manner that Liam has always appreciated about him. But now he sits up, glowering at Liam like he's just waiting for him to say one wrong word. It's a little intimidating, actually.

"... no," Liam admits. Louis has never been pushy while Liam tried to figure out his own feelings, always content to wait.

Zayn deflates, but he's still frowning a little. "Sorry, it's just- Louis has been burned so many times, he wouldn't know a healthy relationship if it poked him in the eye. But if you can't see that he's over the moon with you, then you're just as bad as him."

"Oh," Liam says once more, and then, _"oh."_

He flushes uncontrollably, has to look down at his hands, flexing and unflexing, while he tries to process that information. There had to be attraction on Louis' part - of course, there had to be - but Liam had never considered, never even imagined ...

Then he remembers all the warm smiles in-between the loud laughter, the gentle touches that almost went unnoticed between all the pinching and hugging, the sad looks when Louis thought Liam wasn't watching. He remembers the nervous little smile when Louis said: "just let me kill the lights and we can go to my place?" There was something hopeful in his eyes, a look like one of Tommo's songs of failure and new beginnings, a look that seemed to say: "maybe this time, I'll be lucky. Maybe this time, he'll stay."

Liam feels like the air has been punched out of him. He's been so, so bloody stupid.

"And you are, too, aren't you," Zayn says, because apparently Liam is an open book to him or maybe because he has buried his face in Zayn's chest and keeps groaning at himself.

"Zayn, I fucked up," he mutters into Zayn's expensive jumper and Zayn pats his back.

"You fucked up. But that doesn't mean you can't make it right again."

Liam looks up, shaking his head. He has tried calling, he has tried texting and Louis ignored both. He even went so far as to go to Louis' flat, ringing once, twice, but no reaction whatsoever. "He's never going to listen to me again."

Zayn's face turns thoughtful at that until all of a sudden he gets this look that reminds Liam an awful lot of Louis when he's had an idea. "Then we're going to _make_ him listen."

*

"Alright love, you wait here while Zayn and I go and get drinks."

"And what about me?" Louis asks.

Harry slaps his arm. "I was talking to _you,_ you knob!"

"Really? Could've fooled me, the way you were ogling Niall," Louis snorts and Niall, sitting down next to him, snickers. Harry tsks, but he does shoot his boyfriend another besotted smile.

The two have been permanently attached to each other ever since that night at the club, usually by the mouth. When they're not, Harry keeps draping himself over furniture near the bar - inane attempts at being seductive while Niall is still working - and Niall keeps looking at him like he hung the moon. It's sickeningly sweet and Louis is happy for them, but ...

All he can think about is Liam. His stupid crinkly-eyed smile or his warm hugs or the way he had groped Louis on that stage or how he just had not been there when Louis came back and- It usually stops there, going back into an infinite loop of self-pity and "how could you be so stupid, Tommo, you know you can't have nice things". He just had to fall for the bloke going through an existential crisis, didn't he?

"Hey, don't look so gloomy." Niall pats his shoulder, grinning brightly, and it's hard to not smile back. He has that effect on people. _(Jedi,_ Louis thinks.) "It's karaoke night. This should be fun."

Louis hums non-committally. He doesn't feel very much like singing tonight, but watching Harry and the others usually is entertaining enough. Add to that a decent amount of alcohol and he should be fine. It's a wonderful night to get pissed, if nothing else.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, queens and kings, our lovely ladies from our drag queen programme are having a break for tonight. But don't fret! It's karaoke night and the stage is open for everyone to try their luck. Who wants to go first?"

There's a fake drum roll (they don't have the space for an actual live band in the club) and a bloke in a grey hoodie slowly walks up the stage. He whispers something to the DJ standing behind the console.

"Our first participant is Liam. He picked 'I ran' from A Flock of Seagulls and he wants us to know that he's singing it for someone very special to him."

The bloke turns to face the audience and now Louis can see that it's indeed Liam. His Liam. Liam Payne, standing on a stage on his own accord, and about to sing in front of an audience. Louis almost falls off his chair. He turns to ask Niall if he knew about this, but Niall just grins like the Irish bastard that he is, because of course he knew.

The first chords of some 80's song ring through the club and Louis has a bad, bad feeling about this. No. The kid's going to make a complete fool out of himself.

Liam pulls down the cowl of his hoodie and Louis is surprised to find that he's wearing actual makeup: he has shaved off his usual stubble to look more feminine, gold and red glitter sparkles around his eyes and his mouth is painted in a deep, dark red. Louis has to admit that it looks rather good on him and makes his plush lips look even more kissable. It's appalling.

There is no way Liam did this on his own. When Louis looks over to Harry and Zayn at the bar, he finds them both grinning and nodding in approval. Harry actually has the nerve to give him an exaggerated wink and a thumbs-up. Louis groans loudly and sinks deeper into his chair. Liam starts to sing:

"I walk along the avenue

I never thought I'd meet a girl like you

With auburn hair and tawny eyes

The kind of eyes that hypnotize me through

You hypnotize me through ..."

He looks pretty petrified from where Louis is sitting: eyes wide, hands clinging to the microphone and standing as rigid as a pole, he couldn't look more like a deer caught in the headlights. And his voice ... It's not that he doesn't know how to sing, it just seems that he has completely forgotten how.

"... And I ran, I ran so far away

I just ran, I ran all night and day

I couldn't get away ..."

Louis doesn't know whether to be absolutely furious that he has to sit through this clumsy attempt of an apology or to be annoyed at the song that Liam clearly picked out because it fits them to a T.

"Why doesn't he just stop and run away?" he mutters bitterly. Liam looks terribly uncomfortable on stage and even after everything, Louis feels pity for him. "He's good at that."

"Because he wants to prove to you that he's not a coward," Niall provides gently, "no matter what."

And it really looks like Liam is going pull through this, shaky voice and gritted teeth and sweaty forehead be damned, and Louis hates and loves him for it in equal measures.

"Ah, sod that," he curses under his breath, getting up from his chair and sneaking over to the DJ console. He gives the DJ some instructions, grabs one of the microphones and then enters the stage himself.

Liam's eyes widen and his voice stumbles over the lyrics when he sees Louis, but it doesn't matter, because the music slowly fades over into another beat, another song that Louis specifically picked as an answer to "I ran". Liam isn't the only one who can play this game. Louis makes a point of building himself up, glowering at Liam with all the anger and frustration he can muster.

"Turn around, stand up like a man and look me in the eye

Turn around, take one final look at what you've left behind

Then walk away from the greatest lover you have ever known ..."

He's botching some of the notes, but for the first time in his life, he doesn't care what his voice sounds like. He wants Liam to see, wants him to realise just how badly he fucked up. He points a finger at Liam and starts circling him like an animal would its prey, gripping his microphone tighter.

"You think you're a man but you're only a boy

You think you're a man; you are only a toy

You think you're a man but you just couldn't see

You weren't man enough to satisfy me ..."

The music fades out and Louis just stands there, panting and exhausted. Liam doesn't move, still wide-eyed, looking like he's just been slapped in the face. For a second it looks like he's about to say something, but it never happens.

Louis doesn't care about what he has to say. He's ready to hand back the microphone and leave the stage, but then Liam lifts his own microphone again and - starts improvising.

Louis can't believe his ears. It's that cheesy song from Rock of Ages (he supposes that it's been a popular 80's song before that, but he's not very big on that era). What's worse, Liam looks like he is starting to get into the whole singing thing: his voice grows more confident with every word and he doesn't even seem to be bothered by the audience that starts whistling and cheering when they realise the show isn't over yet. All he seems to see or care for is Louis.

"... Was it something I said or something I did

Did the words not come out right

Though I tried not to hurt you

But I guess that's why they say

Every rose has its thorn

Just like every night has its dawn

Just like every cowboy sings his sad, sad song

Every rose has its thorn ..."

His voice is so beautiful. Louis aches with how clear and strong it sounds and he wants to tell Liam that he's proud, that he loves him, and more than anything, he wants to kiss him. Some of it must show on his face, because Liam's mouth twitches into a shy smile.

"I know I could have saved a love that night

If I'd known what to say

Instead of makin' love

We both made our separate ways ..."

He ends the song with a quiet humming, eyes closed, before he opens them again to catch Louis' gaze. He looks a lot like he did that first night outside the club: clueless and innocent and unbearably hopeful. And it all comes back to Louis - the disappointment, the humiliation, all of it. Liam has left him twice already. Who's to say he won't do it again? Oh, maybe not now, but later, when he decides that he's straight after all or moves on to someone better than Louis. They all do, eventually. Louis is tired of getting left behind.

He sighs and lifts his microphone one more time.

"I thought I saw a man brought to life

He was warm, he came around like he was dignified

He showed me what it was to cry..."

It's a bad idea. He hasn't sung a rendition of "Torn" since the last time he had his heart truly and properly broken. His voice sounds small and lost without any music, all the memories and bitterness flooding back to him, mixing up with the burning ache in his chest that is Liam fucking Payne. He can deal with anger, but this? Not so much.

"I don't care, I have no luck

I don't miss it all that much

There's just so many things

That I can't touch, I'm-"

His voice breaks away, the next word stuck in his throat. He feels raw and naked and he doesn't think he can sing one more note to save his life. This is why he does drag, why he needs drag: as an armour to keep people from seeing him too clearly, to keep them from realising that all the things he jokes and sings about? He means them.

Liam just stands there, speechless and stricken, and it doesn't seem like he has another song in response. Hushed whispers rise from the crowd when they realise that the duel seems to be over. Someone claps, slowly, and a couple more follow and Louis takes this as his cue to leave the stage.

The backdoor of the club slams open and Louis braces the night air, Liam right at his heels.

"Louis, wait!"

"Life is not a fucking musical, Liam," Louis snaps, turning around. "What did you expect? That you were going to serenade me, forgive and forget?"

Liam stops before he can run into Louis and knock him over. He looks flushed and breathless. "No. But I had to make you listen somehow, didn't I?"

Louis crosses his arms. He feels cold already (why didn't he bring a jacket, why does he _never_ bring a jacket), but there's still some anger left to keep him going. "Oh? Okay. I'm listening. Explain to me why you left me standing there like a piece of rubbish."

Liam winces. "I got scared. I didn't want them to be right."

"Who?"

"The bullies. The kids who'd push me around and laugh behind my back and call me names."

"A wise person once told me that's no excuse for acting like a dick," Louis says, scathing, but Liam only straightens up, stepping forward with determination.

"No, it isn't. But I spent my whole life trying to prove them wrong. They'd tell me I was a loser and I tried to be better than them. They'd tell me I was weak, so I picked up boxing. They'd tell me I was a poof and I thought ... I thought that's ridiculous. They're just messing with my head. I like girls, right? So I pushed it out of my mind for years and never considered the possibility that they might have been right about that one thing."

Liam is standing right in front of him now, his body so warm and so close that Louis can feel the heat radiating off him like a halo. "... and I know I can't take back what I did to you, but I am so sorry. Please. Louis. I just realised I'm in love with another man and it's been quite confusing."

Louis has this stupid, ridiculous moment where his heart sinks and bounces in hope at the same time and he wants to ask "who". Who could be that lucky to make Liam Payne fall in love with him, who could be that asshole that takes him away from Louis. But Liam's huge puppy eyes are trained on him and only him, no one else in sight, and then it dawns on him.

"Whoever he is, I hope he treats you right," he says flatly, but his heart is racing a marathon inside his chest.

Liam raises his eyebrow. "That depends. He told me once that he's not up for relationship drama, whatever that means." Louis bristles, but Liam simply talks over him. "But I think that maybe he's just as scared as I am."

Louis wants to protest, but Liam is doing it again: this thing where he says something absolutely ridiculous with so much sincerity that it renders Louis speechless. His breath hitches and he has to swallow hard before he can talk again.

"Everybody always leaves." He has said it so many times before, bitter or sarcastic or full of laughter, but here in this alleyway with only Liam listening, it feels like a pathetic confession, the story of his love life summed up in three words.

Liam cups Louis' face in his hands, disgustingly gentle and warm. "I'm not going to run away again. I promise."

And, surprisingly, Louis wants to believe him. He does believe him. It's like a weight that slowly lifts off his chest, like he can breathe again. He steps closer, right into Liam's space, mostly for warmth but also because he can't not.

"And now what?" he asks, because he's still a little cross and no one has offered makeup sex yet.

"I think that's the part where we're supposed to kiss."

Liam's face is so very close now. He's still wearing his makeup; it's not even half of what Louis paints onto himself when he does drag, but it suits Liam, making him soft and pretty when he's usually all masculine. Maybe Louis is not going to kill Harry and Zayn for that later.

Louis wipes his thumb over Liam's lower lip, smearing the lipstick across his cheek. Liam doesn't seem to mind, just watches him quietly, waiting. The sight tugs hot and low in Louis' stomach, making his skin buzz all over. He wants to know what else he can do to Liam. He wants to _debauch_ Liam.

"I think I want to do more than kiss," he says, his voice hoarse and low. "If you want to-?"

"Yeah," Liam breathes, "definitely."

"Great. My place is-"

"-only a five minute walk away. I know. Let's finally put that fact to use."

*

They stumble into Louis' flat clinging to each other: Louis pushing forward, sucking at Liam's neck, Liam slowly walking backwards and tugging at Louis' shirt. He almost trips over a trainer - again. He is pretty sure it's even the same one as last time, but he is too busy to check.

"How can you live in this mess?" he asks, breathless but he's laughing.

"You're welcome to tidy up anytime you want," Louis grins, his fingers sneaking to the fly of Liam's jeans. His lips are faintly red with smeared lipstick and Liam's face probably doesn't look any better. It's fantastic.

"I might ... just not right now."

Louis undoes the button and fly of Liam's jeans, then lets his hand hover there as if unsure if he should continue, but Liam pushes forward immediately. He groans against Louis' neck when Louis' hand makes contact with his half-hard cock, and it feels so good, even through all the fabric. It seems to break the spell, because now Louis starts yanking at Liam's jeans and pants, pulling them down with him when he goes down to his knees.

_Oh._ Liam's stomach flips when he realises what Louis is about to do, but he feels like his voice might crack if he said anything right now. So he just watches, shivering as Louis nuzzles the sensitive skin right underneath his hipbone and takes the base of Liam's cock into his hand. Louis raises his eyebrows and flashes him a cheeky grin and then, finally, takes him into his mouth.

Liam has had blowjobs before, but this is ... this is different, rougher, better somehow - or maybe it's just that he's been fantasising about Louis' hot and wet mouth for too long. It takes all of Liam's willpower not to bury his hands in Louis' messy hair and pull him closer, to push in deeper and fuck into his mouth. He does bury his hands in Louis' hair, though, just so he has something to hold on to.

It's not long until Liam is groaning, his legs shaking like they're about to give way. He could come like this and oh god, he wants to, wants to spill himself in Louis' perfect mouth ... just not tonight.

"Louis, please ... not like this, I-"

Louis looks up, cheeks flushed and his lips still shiny with spit. It's a sight to die for. Liam licks his lips, hesitating, unsure how to phrase what he needs. But then something excited and hopeful flashes in Louis eyes and he drags himself back to his feet. "Want me to fuck you?"

Liam nods, his cheeks growing hot.

"I tried out some things by myself or with Dani, but never-" Never like this. Never with a man. Still, he wants this so badly, needs this to be more than just a quick fumble or even a blowjob. "Please, Louis. I need you inside me. I need you to fuck me."

Louis' eyes go dark and he makes a desperate noise before grasping at Liam's shirt to pull him in for another open-mouthed kiss.

"Shit, I- I'm going to make you feel good, babe, I promise" he mouths against the corner of Liam's lips, his voice quiet and hoarse, and Liam shudders. "You're never gonna want to leave again."

And Liam aches, aches for Louis to keep going, aches because Louis still thinks he needs to prove something, aches because he loves this idiot so much and he doesn't even know where to begin with showing it. So he says what he already said and he's going to say it a hundred times more if that is what it takes.

"I'm not going to. I promise."

Louis stills, just for the fraction of a second, then he pushes Liam lightly in the chest.

"Undress," he says, just this side of bossy, but his smile is gentle and grateful.

Liam is already half-naked, so it doesn't take him long to tug off his shoes and strip out of the rest of his clothes. Louis watches him through half-lidded eyes, still fully clothed, and there's something about the imbalance of it that makes Liam feel hot all over.

"Bedroom," Louis says. Liam follows eagerly. He could do this all night long, he catches himself thinking, being pushed around by Louis and following orders. He isn't sure what it means, but this isn't the time to find out. Not when Louis strips out of his clothes (Liam's breath hitches, because fuck, he's _gorgeous_ ) and pushes him onto the bed, kissing him hard, and Liam doesn't think anything at all for quite a while.

Liam is pressed into the mattress, Louis on top of him, both their cocks shifting against each other with the barest amount of friction. It's driving Liam mad, so he takes them both into his hand and starts jerking them off to ease a bit of the tension. Louis thrusts his hips forward into Liam's hand with a delightful little whimper, making Liam grin against his mouth.

"Do that again," he asks. Louis shoots him an indignant look like he's most definitely not going to, but then Liam twists his hand _just so_ and Louis bites his lip. Liam does it once more, making him whimper most definitely again.

"You're a bloody tease," Louis hisses, mouthing at Liam's jaw before slapping at his hand and pulling away. A disappointed noise escapes Liam's mouth, but Louis pushes him back into the mattress with gentle but firm determination.

"Just a sec," he mutters, rummaging through the bedside table, before throwing a handful of condoms onto the bed and producing a bottle of lube. He uncaps hit, squirting way too much lube into his hand until it's dripping off his fingers and onto the bed. Louis lets out a keyed up little laugh and it's only then that Liam realises that his hands are shaking.

He places his hands around Louis' wrists with a quiet "hey", smiling gently and trying to catch Louis' gaze. He looks wide-eyed and breathless, maybe from need, maybe because he's just so nervous. Maybe it's a little bit of both. Liam gets it, feels like that himself, but he also trusts Louis so very much. So he lets his legs fall apart, leaning back and guiding one of Louis' hands between them.

"How can you be like this? How are you even real?" Louis asks, incredulous and terribly fond, diving in to kiss him and teasing his entrance with one finger.

It's been a while, but Liam is familiar with this. The sensation of a finger slipping inside him doesn't come as much of a shock. What does throw him off is when Louis pinches his nipple and he arches off the bed, the pain shooting hot and white through his entire body.

"Wow," Louis says, a wicked grin on his lips, "you never told me your nipples were that sensitive."

"Would've been kind of an-" Liam stutters when Louis flicks his thumb once more over the hardened nub, "-kind of an awkward conversation."

"So you just suffered quietly and let me keep you pinching?"

"More or less, yeah," he breathes. He lets his head fall back into the pillow when Louis starts sucking his nipple, licking and nibbling the area around it. It's not as intense as the pinching but not that far off, making him writhe and squirm. He almost doesn't notice when Louis pushes another finger inside him, curling them just so they brush a bundle of nerves that make him see stars.

He pushes down eagerly, fucking himself slowly on Louis' fingers. He feels like he's melting from the inside, heat pooling in his stomach. It's still not what he wants, though, even when Louis slips in a third finger. Surely this is enough for now, has to be enough? He wants Louis, all of him, buried deep inside him.

"Come on," he whines, pushing down hard and surprising himself with how desperate he sounds. Louis curses under his breath, but he does pull out his fingers, blindly grabbing for a condom and ripping the wrapper open. He lines himself up and slowly pushes into Liam. And _this,_ this is new.

Liam's breathing is shallow with the effort of taking all of Louis in and he can feel every twitch of Louis' dick inside him. He's as full as he has never been before and he can't help gripping Louis' arms so hard it must hurt.

"Shit, Louis, I-"

"Shh, babe, it's alright. I'm just gonna stay like this, okay?"

Louis smiles, but it looks like it takes every ounce of willpower for him to stay completely still and give Liam time to adjust. There's a moment in which it all seems too much, when the discomfort starts to tip over into pain, but Louis keeps kissing him through it, muttering "relax" against his lips, his chin, his neck, kissing and licking patterns into his skin until Liam is melting under his touch, can feel himself loosen up.

It's then that Louis starts to move inside him, slow and tentative, and it's ... He feels Louis brush that point inside him again and the heat rushes through his body like a wave. He moans into Louis' mouth, holding onto his shoulders like a lifeline.

"God, babe, you're so tight," Louis groans. When he reaches down between them, stroking Liam with every thrust, Liam lets out a moan, low and needy. He's not going to last long, not with Louis fucking deep and relentlessly into him, his entire body shaking with need.

Maybe it's the twist of Louis' hand or maybe that last thrust, but he comes suddenly and hard, leaving white stripes of hot come all over his stomach. Louis keeps fucking him through the last wave of his orgasm and then stills, looking at him breathless and somewhat stunned.

"You alright?"

"Better than alright," Liam croaks, light-headed and smiling. He lifts his hips a little and digs his heels into Louis' back to push him in deeper, motioning for him to keep going. "Come on. I can take it."

Louis lets out a mix between a moan and a laugh. "Can't wait to find out what else you can take."

"I'm all yours," Liam says. It's meant to be flirty and light-hearted, but something in Louis' eyes cracks open at it, so Liam says it again, quiet and hoarse and not at all joking: "I'm yours."

Louis starts moving again, his eyes fixed on Liam. "Mine," he chokes out, and it sounds amazed, like a question, a statement, an epiphany all rolled into one.

"Yeah," Liam says, his legs wrapped around Louis' back, trembling from the strain. Louis is rock-hard and it's exhilarating to feel him pounding into him, over and over again, to see him slowly come undone with a silent cry and one last thrust.

He collapses on top of Liam and Liam wraps his arms around him, pulling him close. They're both hot and sweaty and there's come between them, but Liam doesn't care. He nuzzles the side of Louis' head, the hair tickling against his nose, until Louis finally stirs.

He pulls out and gets rid of the condom, flopping down beside Liam who looks at him with a drowsy, lopsided grin. Louis softly strokes his thumb over Liam's lower lip, looking him up and down appreciatively.

"Look at you, properly debauched and fucked out."

Liam flicks his tongue out, licking at the pad of Louis' thumb. "You don't look any better."

"You alright, though?" Louis asks again, "no gay panic?"

He's joking, but there's a bit of real worry in his voice, Liam can tell.

"I'm fine." He is. He will be. He might freak out later or in couple of days or at the very latest when he's eventually going to tell his family. But the thought doesn't scare him as much anymore. He's fine. "After all, I'm not alone."

Louis cocks his head at that and gives him a smile, intimate and bright and beautiful, and for a moment Liam can almost see Tommo on his features.

"No. No, you're not."

*

_Three months later._

Tommo makes her way through the crowd, pushing people aside and dragging Harriette along with her.

"Come on, they're waiting!" she yells. Harriette giggles, still drunk on adrenaline, almost stumbling over her stiletto heels. They're almost at the bar - she can see Zayn nursing a drink and Niall waves when he spots them.

Harriette shakes off Tommo's hand at that, running past her with considerable speed until she collides with the bar. She leans over it to catch Niall's mouth for a sloppy kiss. Niall smiles against her lips, not at all bothered by the pink lipstick, his hand going up to brush some of the pink hair aside.

"You were fantastic! Both of you!" Liam jumps out of his seat, beaming proudly. He doesn't kiss Tommo to avoid ruining her makeup, but he pulls her into a tight hug, whispering into her ear: "you were my favourite, though."

Of course she was. She can tell by the way Liam squirms and tries to readjust his half-hard dick in his trousers. It was a little much tonight, them singing "Do you wanna touch me?" in tight leather jackets and overknee boots. They stripped out of the jackets halfway through the show, only to reveal skintight dresses that left very little to the imagination but just enough to keep the illusion going.

Tommo brushes her thumb over Liam's plush lower lip and he smacks a little kiss on it, smiling back at her with that adorable, scrunched-up face that makes her all fuzzy inside.

"Urgh." Zayn pretends to retch into his glass, throwing them an exasperated smile. "Lovebirds everywhere. Help?"

"Aww, Zee." Harriette throws her arm around his shoulder, pulling him in for an embrace and smacking a kiss onto his cheek, leaving a pink smudge there. "What about your new girlfriend?"

"Gigi's busy tonight, but you're going to meet her soon. She's amazing," Zayn says, an adoring glint in his eyes that hasn't been there for quite a while. Must be something serious, then.

Tommo leans over, kissing Zayn's other cheek and leaving a red smudge to match the one from Harriette. "I bet she is."

Zayn laughs good-naturedly, wiping at his cheeks with the back of his hand. "What about you two?" he asks, eyeing Tommo and Liam. "I heard you're off tomorrow to meet the family?"

Liam fidgets and nods, a sheepish grin on his face. He has been nervous all week long, even though his parents seem to have taken the news of him having a boyfriend mostly well albeit a bit confused.

"Speaking of which, what dress should I wear?" Tommo asks, because scandalising Liam never gets old and it's easier than admitting that she's about as nervous as Liam looks. She has never met any of her boyfriend's parents and she's probably going to ruin it by saying the wrong thing about Mrs. Payne's clothes or accidentally flirting with Mr. Payne.

"I don't care, you look beautiful in all of them."

Liam smiles and he doesn't even seem to be joking, rubbing his thumb gently across the small of Tommo's back. It's infuriating and terrible and Tommo feels so bashful all of a sudden that she has to look down, tugging up the neckline of her dress.

Liam eyes follow her movement, his gaze lingering on where the hem of her skirt rides up her thigh, and then adds: "well, maybe not this outfit. Or the lacey one that barely covers your bum."

He leans in, whispering something into her ear that she can't possibly repeat with a pure conscience. She does, indeed, feel her cheeks go a little pink even as she smirks back at Liam and wiggles her eyebrows.

"Oh my god, you're blushing. I don't think I've ever seen you blush," Niall says, staring incredulously at Tommo and Liam in turns, "what did he say?"

Liam smiles, his own cheeks slightly pink, but he simply shrugs.

"It was something dirty, wasn't it," shouts Harriette, because she likes nothing more than to state the obvious.

"You've corrupted him. You've corrupted, Liam." Zayn sighs woefully into his drink, but he's smiling.

"Oh shut it," Tommo slaps at his arm. "It was you who brought him here in the first place. And he's been coming back on his own accord, the kinky bastard."

That earns her an indignant look from Liam. "I came back because I liked your show so much."

"And because you're a kinky bastard," Niall says, deadpan, turning to Harriette and Tommo. "So when's the next duet?"

"You mean threesome," Zayn tosses in casually, leaning against the bar with an infuriatingly blasé look. He's trying to act all cool, but Tommo knows him well enough to see the smugness underneath.

Niall and Liam look at each other and then back between Zayn and the queens, all three of them grinning now.

"You mean ..."

"The Rude Girls...?"

"I'm not back for good," Zayn says immediately, raising his shoulders in a half-shrug, "but ... yes. I agreed to do a number every once in a while. So long as it doesn't collide with my other jobs."

"That's fantastic!" Niall says, genuinely excited. "We have to celebrate! Drinks are on me!"

And he dives behind the bar to fill up more glasses, while Harriette and Zayn start talking about possible songs they could perform. Tommo smiles, content to just listen and watch.

Liam wraps an arm around her waist from behind, pulling her close to his chest. He's a warm presence against her back and she can smell his cologne when he leans in. "I'm glad. I know how much this means to you, Zee coming back."

Tommo shrugs her shoulder, not wanting to admit how right he is. "It's not really a reunion, you know. It's just ... it just is."

"It's fantastic," Liam insists, placing a feathery kiss on her neck.

And he's right, of course, but she also knows that it probably isn't going to last forever. She is strangely okay with that. Zayn is still going to be there, drag performances or not, just like Harry and Niall will be there. Just like Liam. Liam, who has still such a long way to go, but in a sort, so does she.

She smiles, lacing her fingers together with Liam's, liking the look of his slightly calloused hand against hers. For the first time in her life she feels like she's going to be alright, like she's finally becoming that girl she's always singing about: Lady Peaceful, Lady Happy.

All the odds are in her favour now and maybe this time, she'll win.

 

**Author's Note:**

> [Born naked, RuPaul](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nTn9CiPWTJQ)   
>  [Maybe this time, Emma Stone (Cabaret)](http://apfelhalm.tumblr.com/post/163529510084/tumbleroar-maybe-this-time-emma-stone)   
>  [Lovefool, The Cardigans](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NI6aOFI7hms)   
>  [I won't say I'm in love, Disney's Hercules (including a vid that shows how the Rude Girls' performance might have looked like)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GXkinwZ9FOg)   
>  [Creep, Vintage Postmodern Jukebox Radiohead Cover ft. Haley Reinhart](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m3lF2qEA2cw)   
>  [I ran, A Flock of Seagulls (but I prefer the La La Land version :D)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WekGK0WxKGc)   
>  [You Think You're A Man, Divine](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ugCVZnQiMaQ)   
>  [Every rose has its thorn, Rock of Ages rendition](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xi-ZNHaX75g)   
>  [Torn, One Direction cover](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f_h7o4yLldY)   
>  [Do You Wanna Touch Me?, Glee rendition](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a3aMRxHS0sY)


End file.
